


If It Be Passion's Will

by Ameera



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Complete, M/M, Mild Smut, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameera/pseuds/Ameera
Summary: Will Graham's incredible empathy allows him to be an incredibly successful actor. He accepts the role of The Chesapeake Ripper in a film about the serial killer still at large. However, he meets the Neurosurgeon Dr. Hannibal Lecter when he is diagnosed with Encephalitis. The fascination for this unusual doctor only grows as Will also tries to figure out who the real Chesapeake Ripper is once members of the cast and crew begin getting killed.





	1. Tzatziki

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the incredible abundance of references to the show, the Thomas Harris books, and the movies based on those books are all intentional. I attempted to mimic the show's style as well as I could so keep that in mind when trying to gauge whether or not this fic will be too violent for you. There will be one explicit sex scene, though there will be other hot makeout scenes and so on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the incredible abundance of references to the show, the Thomas Harris books, and the movies based on those books are all intentional. I attempted to mimic the show's style as well as I could so keep that in mind when trying to gauge whether or not this fic will be too violent for you. There will be one explicit sex scene, though there will be other hot makeout scenes and so on.

“I can empathize with anyone.” Will responded to the sea of questions being posed to him. “In this case, however, I am empathizing with a murderer. This role has been incredibly challenging because I could never do something so horrendous.” Will saw that his answer lacked a certain finality to it, as the questions stopped and the reporters were simply waiting for him to continue. Will put on his “approachable” face and laughed, “Maybe I should be relieved, though.” There was an acceptable chuckle in response to Will’s half-assed joke. People want their favorite actors to do well in interviews, so it’s very rare that anyone actually poses “tough questions” during a press conference. After each of his answers Will found himself reaching for his water bottle, he couldn’t seem to stay hydrated. Will had also found that covering his mouth with a drink was an excellent way to hide the cough he was fighting off.

  
Will Graham hated press conferences. He hated anything that involved his work outside of the work itself. To Will, being an actor meant becoming the character and putting on a performance, not talking about that performance and posing for pictures. At least his leading lady was better at handling these situations for him. Freddie Lounds, Hollywood’s favorite red-head, was happy to take the media attention away from Will. Will still wasn’t sure what he thought of Freddie. He knew he didn’t like her character for this film, but that was hardly her fault. It was hardly the screenwriter’s fault either, there were only about thirty words in the entire script that were from Abel Gideon’s original screenplay, the rest was all reworked (including Freddie’s entire character) by the director Frederick Chilton. Will couldn’t help but agree with Gideon’s decision to sue for arbitration, but it would be problematic if he mentioned that in interviews.

  
Freddie was tearing up now. Will couldn’t imagine what it was about, but the cameras were flashing hungrily at this shot of a vulnerable A-lister. Will put a sympathetic arm around Freddie’s shoulder in order to put forward the façade of chemistry between the two of them. Freddie gave him a half smile that appeared to the press as gratitude but was clearly a message to Will that this was all an act. Act, that’s something Will could do. Almost as a reflex, Will put on the guise of the celebrity with a softer side and gave a platonic kiss on the top of Freddie’s head. Freddie took this opportunity of closeness to fill him in on what was happening.

  
“We’re talking about the real-life victims.” Will gave a small nod of gratitude to Freddie for recognizing that he had not been paying attention. He let Freddie go and then leaned into his own microphone to continue.

  
“When making this film, the last thing we want is to over-dramatize or fictionalize these tragedies. Just the opposite, we want to raise awareness and hopefully get the Chesapeake Ripper behind bars.” There was a huge amount of applause from the audience. The Chesapeake Ripper had plagued the United States for years, they’d become such a sensation that Will was now starring in a movie that portrayed a theorized profile of the Ripper as fact. The selling point was that this film would lure anyone who knew anything about the Ripper out of hiding, that no more lives would be lost. Will, however, was cynical. The Chesapeake Ripper was good for business, which was the truth behind the production of this film.

  
Somehow, the press conference was over. Will tried to hide his incredible relief as he exited the stage with Freddie. Freddie stopped in the back room before heading for the car, Will must have looked at her questioningly because she flashed a smile. “I’ve got to put on a show, after all.” With that, Freddie, wiped at her eye makeup, making it appear as though her tears had grown worse. Freddie smiled again at Will before taking his arm. “Come on, comfort me.” Will, of course, did as he was told while escorting Freddie to their limo. The press was eating up Freddie’s performance, Will couldn’t help but be amused by her ability to play the media game. In the limo, Freddie produced a compact and immediately cleaned up her look, always making sure her lipstick was flawless.

  
Will was about to say something clever, an observation on Freddie’s calculating personality, but instead he found himself hacking and coughing uncontrollably. Freddie merely raised an eyebrow as she continued to perfect herself in the mirror. At last, Will caught his breath, wiping his face that was now drenched in sweat. “You done?” Freddie asked, half-joking.

  
“One can only hope.” Will replied, still gasping slightly.

  
“Maybe you should take the afternoon off.” Freddie put her compact and makeup in her purse and finally looked as though she was paying attention to Will. “Go see a doctor or something.”

Will shook his head, “Can’t, I’m supposed to be blocking a scene this afternoon.” Freddie scoffed.

  
“Your stand-in can do that. Why are you so against seeing a doctor?” Freddie was right, but Will was stubborn.

  
“I don’t want a stand-in doing this. I want as much input as possible,” Will paused, trying to articulate himself. “I feel really strongly about this character.” Freddie laughed.  
“You feel strongly about a murderer? Should I be afraid of you?” Will rolled his eyes.

  
“And you fake tears about that murderer’s victims. So we’re a couple of unhinged actors in a limo together.” Freddie smirked as she gathered her things.

  
“Well, I’m getting dropped off so you can figure out what to do about your health on your own.” She exited the limo and then leaned back in to give a final word. “You need to learn not to burn yourself out on one project.” She gave an insincere smile and left. Will refused to humor the idea of skipping blocking a moment longer and before he knew it, he was on set.

  
The scene was a simple enough one from Will’s perspective. Most of the artistry would be executed by cinematography, music, and editing. While the film had become far more cliché through rewrites and edits, Will appreciated the DP’s attempts to make it looks somewhat unique. Her name was Beverly Katz and she was clearly exasperated with the egotistical male preening of Director Chilton. Her original storyboards for this scene actually only focused on the victim’s face. She described it as giving this dead girl some sort of final shred of dignity. However, Chilton wanted to show the violence, blood, and gore for the sake of audience shock value. So, ultimately, the storyboards now looked more standard.

  
Will, as the Chesapeake Ripper was to carve open a girl, and take out her lungs while she was still alive. The FBI were somehow consulted on the script, whether it was with the original writer or through the various rewrites, it didn’t matter to Will. The point was that this really happened, the Chesapeake Ripper really did do this to a girl who wasn’t even old enough to drink. Breathtaking, Will thought. Of course he only thought that way to get into character. Of course.

  
Armed with a scalpel, Will was instructed how and where to cut on a latex dummy. Props had spared no expense on this fake corpse, it looked much like the actress whose screaming face would later be digitally added to the gruesome scene. In order to make Will’s job easier, the actress was actually there on set, screaming off-camera. Will liked the actress playing Cassie Boyle, her name was Abigail Hobbes and he felt she certainly had a career ahead of her. Will didn’t have a problem with killing Cassie Boyle, she may have been a real person but she was already dead and Will had never met her. Will didn’t like killing Abigail though, she was so wide-eyed and eager to please. Abigail walked up to Will while Chilton was distracted with technical issues.

  
“You look dressed to kill.” She smiled, motioning to his wardrobe. The FBI theorized that the Chesapeake Ripper wore some sort of plastic suit to keep any trace of him from being discovered.

  
“And you look good enough to eat.” Will laughed and then mimed taking a bite. Abigail smiled.

  
“Why do you think he eats his victims?” Abigail said this not to Will, exactly, but more of as a thought that was casually mentioned aloud. She seemed completely detached from the fact that they were portraying a truly macabre story. Will had thought about this a lot himself, but he hardly wanted to tell others his thoughts on the subject. Instead, Will deflected the question with a joke.

  
“Every man needs a hobby, I guess.” Abigail gave him a small, sarcastic smile, but she didn’t press. “Who knows? Maybe if I didn’t fish, I’d be saying bon appetite right now.” Abigail seemed to be very thoughtful about that statement.

  
“I’ve never fished before. My dad taught me how to hunt though.” Will smiled at her, he felt like he could be relaxed with Abigail, he also always wanted to hear about how she was doing.

  
“Well then I’ll teach you how to fish sometime.” Abigail smiled and looked as though she was about to respond when Director Chilton’s attentions were back on Will. Abigail was rushed off-camera once again.

  
Will found gutting to be a calming chore. He understood how many would simply throw back their fish, but he felt that preparing and eating the fish added a finality to the task that returning the fish to the waters lacked. Fish entrails were hardly disturbing to Will at this point, he didn’t even think about gutting anymore, he simply did it. The fish he was gutting now was quite an impressive size, he looked at it for a moment, proud. It was a much larger bass than one could normally get in a local river so he was lucky to have… caught it? Will found himself lost, when did he catch this fish? He looked up for a moment and then felt himself being pulled to the ground.

  
As Will looked around, his surroundings changed. There were faces of set crew members that he recognized, but couldn’t assign names to. “Mr. Graham?” One of the particularly youthful faces said cautiously. Will couldn’t understand, he had just been in his kitchen, alone, gutting a… oh God. Will immediately broke free from the hands holding onto him at the ground to see the gutted corpse of Abigail Hobbes. Will felt himself losing it. How could this be? He looked to his dominant hand, to see that it was also covered in blood, and holding a scalpel. Will’s last thought was on how he murdered Abigail before it all went black.

“You may have gotten a little too in character.” Abigail Hobbes said, leaning over Will as he regained consciousness. Will’s eyes darted around, where was he? It was a sterile environment and he was strapped into a bed. There was a security guard at the door and while Abigail was on his one side, opposite her was Freddie Lounds.

  
Freddie smiled when Will looked at her, “I told you to see a doctor.” Will looked back at Abigail, unable to believe that she was still alive.

  
“What happened?” Was all Will could manage to say. It seemed that once they began filming the butchering scene, Will was performing excellently. His acting was natural and barbaric but when Chilton called for them to cut, he continued to carve away at the latex dummy. The squibs covered him in blood colored corn syrup. The only way to get Will to snap out of it was to physically drag him to the ground. Once Will saw the latex dummy of Abigail and the fake blood, he believed he had actually killed her and suffered a panic attack before losing consciousness. Will was simply relieved that Abigail was telling him this, or else he may not have believed that she was truly alive.

  
Freddie made a point to take a selfie of the three of them for her Twitter followers. Despite how kitschy it was, Will was somewhat relieved that Freddie could handle the media side of this fiasco instead of him having to deal with it. “Aww, look at that. @grahamgirl14 sends you hugs and kisses in hopes of a speedy recovery.” Freddie said with a teasing smile. Will gave an appreciative smile in return but hardly felt at ease.

  
“So, I’m crazy?” Abigail and Freddie exchanged looks apprehensively. Abigail was the one who broke the silence.

  
“We don’t know what’s going on with you yet.” Abigail very timidly placed a hand on his shoulder, a motion which Freddie mirrored on Will’s other side. Will held back from continuing to spit-ball theories as to how he’d lost his mind. “They did some scans while you were out, there’s a doctor waiting outside to give you the results if you’re ready for him.”

  
“Christ, how long was I out for?” Will responded, only now realizing that Abigail and Freddie were in completely different outfits than they had been the last time he saw them.

“Just twelve hours. That’s really not that much. But they wanted to do the scans immediately.” Abigail said in a half-joking, half-attempting to be comforting sort of way.

“Freddie was with you the whole time.” Will looked at Freddie somewhat confused by that. Freddie shrugged.

  
“I was posting pictures and updates every hour.” She held up her phone to show Will another image from her Twitter of his unconscious face. “#prayforWillGraham #nomakeup.” Will allowed himself to laugh out loud at that one, he couldn’t even be mad. Freddie took this as an opening to continue. “Honestly, you should have attacks like this more often. It’s done wonders for my follower count.”

  
“Well, I may have to if you two don’t let that doctor in.” At that moment, Will decided that Freddie was the most fake person he’d ever met. She was excellent at using the media, however ruthless, he was just glad she was on his side for the time being.

  
“Don’t tempt me.” Freddie smiled as she moved to open the door.

  
The tall, well-groomed surgeon entered the room. He had an almost aristocratic air and when he spoke there was a heavy accent that Will couldn’t identify. “I’m afraid confidentiality dictates that the two of you will have to leave for now.” Abigail gave a small wave before exiting and Freddie smeared her eye makeup for appearances and left. It was just this mysterious surgeon and Will now. Perhaps it was the fever, but a chill went down the actor’s spine, and he couldn’t help but feel that was somehow in response to the doctor.


	2. Moussaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Lecter explains to Will that he would like to study how Will's Encephalitis progresses, which would mean that Will would have to forego treatment. Will worries that his ability to empathize is completely dependent on his disease remaining. Not only that, Will can't figure out what Dr. Lecter's intentions towards him are, as the man continues to send Will signals that are rife with euphemism.

“So am I crazy?” Will said quickly, fidgeting with his hospital wristband. He hoped this man wasn’t a fan. He didn’t want his medical attention to be diluted by autographs and pictures. Will resolved then and there to keep things as professional as possible with this surgeon.

  
“Would there be anything so wrong with a little madness?” The heavily accented surgeon responded with a smile. Obviously, this man was not on the same page as Will. Will wanted answers. This surgeon seemed to want conversation.

  
“Well, as a rule I try to stay sane until at least after shooting is over with.” Will gave a cynical smile as he continued to look at his hands. “But I suppose that’s not up to me, is it?”

  
“Do you have a problem with making eye contact?” The surgeon asked. Again, a diagnosis was not being given. This only gave Will more cause for concern. Will knew that this meant that he was crazy. He was frightened, which meant he would try to scrape his way out of the grave of madness he was assuredly caught in. Instead of making a scathing remark, he resolved to simply give the surgeon what he wanted and make eye contact in order to get a straight answer.

  
“Look, Doctor. As my problem is most likely psychological I will be needing someone with different expertise. I’m sure whoever you refer me to will be fine.” Will could lie while making eye contact. He found he almost always made eye contact when he was lying. And what he was saying, he was sure would be a lie, he would not be fine.

  
“Why are you so certain that your illness is mentally based?” Again, avoiding the inevitable diagnosis. “You haven’t even heard what I am here to say?” Although this would usually be a passive-aggressive way of telling another person to simply listen, this surgeon seemed to genuinely want an answer to why Will was demanding a diagnosis for his own condition.

  
“Doctor, my name is Will Graham—“

  
“And I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Sane or otherwise.” Hannibal gave a small nod and an ever so slight smile at Will’s shock to being cut-off. Will returned it with a smile of his own, but more out of dumbfounded confusion than of actual amusement. Will found it difficult to start again, but when he did, he found himself speaking carefully.

  
“Look… Dr. Lecter… For a living, I tap into the psyche of other people. Fictional people. More frequently than not some very unbalanced individuals. I have been successful in my career because I can empathize with anyone. I’ve suspected for some time that that could easily mean madness.” He was surprised that after all the avoidance, Will found himself being perfectly candid with this Dr. Lecter. Was it refreshing? Not exactly, but certainly relieving in an odd way. Will exhaled after pausing. “So you can refer me to a psychiatrist and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  
The look that Dr. Lecter had was of both intrigue and amusement. There was a certain calculating air that could be felt from him as he planned what to say next. “I’m afraid you’ll be staying with me a little longer.” Dr. Lecter passed a folder that he brought in with him to Will. Will opened it instinctively. “Your brain scans reveal that you have a form of encephalitis. More commonly seen in women than men, but it is highly treatable.”

  
Will looked at images of his own brain that he didn’t understand but knew refuted everything he’d been thinking. This surgeon had just handed Will the quick fix of the century and yet he felt a sudden sense of trepidation. “You can fix me?” Will said this aloud, but he himself didn’t hear it.

  
“Is that not what you want?” This Dr. Lecter could sense the hesitation coming from Will.

  
“My ability to empathize…” Will began, still looking at images he couldn’t comprehend. “comes from this condition?” Will felt his entire way of life being called into question.

  
Dr. Lecter slightly turned his head to the side, his eyes scanning Will’s entire body. “It’s possible.” Hannibal Lecter took a seat beside Will’s bed. “But like I said, it’s no problem to cure you.”

  
Will looked at the surgeon. He was a man with a commanding and an educated presence, his small smiles seemed to stem from a rehearsed bedside manner. Something about this man made Will know for a fact that he could indeed be cured of whatever was ailing him. This frightened Will more than anything else. But what could Will say? No thanks, I’d rather have violent hallucinations? He felt himself being blocked into a corner. “When do we start treatment?” He said making direct eye contact and faking a smile. His smile of lies was met with one of Dr. Lecter’s most genuine.

  
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet.” Dr. Lecter leaned in with his oh so genuine smile. “We have an opportunity here if you’re at all interested.” Will was, indeed, interested in not having to be “cured.” He motioned for Dr. Lecter to continue. “As this particular strain of Encephalitis is rare and highly treatable, we have yet to see how it progresses.” Will clearly showed a lack of understanding. “With your permission, I would like to hold off treatment so that we may learn more about this disease.”

  
“You’re asking me to let myself get sicker?” Will tried to determine what angle this surgeon could have. Perhaps there would be some sort of paper that would make him rich? Maybe having a star patient for an extended period of time was appealing to this man?

  
“For a time.” Dr. Lecter responded. “I would personally be monitoring your development and ensure your safety.”

  
“Why?” Will had wanted to phrase the question more skillfully, but he only found the one word coming out. Dr. Lecter seemed hardly phased by this.

  
“I want to see what happens, simple as that.” He gave a small nod, as if confirming the truth behind what he was saying. “You have a rather sizable amount of disposable income, which makes you uniquely placed to have both the best medical attention and take a break from working for some time.”

  
“You don’t know producers if you think I can just stop filming.” Will shook his head. “I don’t want to lose this part.”

  
“The Chesapeake Ripper?” Dr. Lecter asked, clearly intrigued. “Is such a role so vital to your career?”

  
“No…” Will began. “But it’s not that I need to play this part…” He tried to find the words that would make him sound the least insane. “It’s more that I find the opportunity enticing. Exciting, even.” For some reason that Will could not understand, Dr. Lecter seemed pleased by this answer.

  
“Then I propose that you continue to play this part.” Dr. Lecter stood up. “But, I hear that during the very preliminary stages of this film, your stand-in could do most of your work.” Will couldn’t argue with that. “I believe with a limited work load, both desires, yours and mine, can be met.” Dr. Lecter waited for a response, but was met with silence. He again, nodded, and motioned to leave. “I’ll allow you to rest and think on it.” Before he exited, Will spoke.

  
“I’ll do it.” He said hastily. Dr. Lecter turned around, the corners of his lips on a very slight upturn. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Again, Will’s words were met with one of Dr. Lecter’s confident nods.

  
“I’ll let you rest now.” And then Will was alone, taking it all in.

 

Will had spent the rest of his afternoon in phone calls and meetings in his hospital room. He had to make arrangement after arrangement to ensure that he both kept his part and remained untreated. Freddie and Abigail returned again together. It seemed Freddie had chosen to mentor Abigail and try to boost her celebrity. Abigail, meanwhile was genuinely worried about Will.

  
“I don’t see why you don’t just get the treatment.” Abigail said firmly with her arms crossed. “Why drag it out when you could just be better?” Before Will could respond, Freddie interjected.

  
“It’s better this way, Abigail.” Freddie had a small smirk. “Trust me, after a couple of weeks you’ll be thanking Will for stirring this much buzz around the film.” This, of course, wasn’t the real reason Will was delaying treatment, but it sounded more concrete than the truth.

  
“I’ll be completely fine.” He reassured, “Dr. Lecter is going to be monitoring my condition the whole time.”

  
“Well, it’s stupid.” Abigail was shifting her weight from one foot to the other and biting her lip, but she was staring Will down.

  
“Abby,” Freddie began, Abigail flashed a quick expression that indicated that she wasn’t a fan of that nickname, but she didn’t let it show long. “There’s nothing to worry about. And when the public hears that he did this film while suffering from Encephalitis? We’ll have the biggest block buster hit for years.”

  
“Sounds more like NASCAR than acting.” Abigail rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I better get going. They want to make sure my wardrobe still looks okay with the squibs under it.” With that, she left. It wasn’t much of an excuse for rushing off, but Will couldn’t blame Abigail for not liking this situation.

  
“Will, I’ve been thinking…” Freddie looked at him with a playful smile. “Do we need to let the public know what you’re suffering from exactly?” Will was suspicious.

  
“What did you have in mind?” He asked.

  
“Nothing specific. If we keep the diagnosis vague and ambiguous everyone will assume that it’s life-threatening. Then the film will be an even bigger sensation if people think it might be your last.” Freddie raised her eyebrows with a smug expression.

  
“Are you asking me to die?”

  
“No! You’ll make a miraculous recovery and be everybody’s golden boy.” Freddie waved her hand. “We just have to make it look good for the press.” Will considered the proposition. It wasn’t the plan that appealed to Will, instead he liked the avoidance of it. If people knew he was suffering from something highly treatable, there would be questions. This way, he would be protected from all that.

  
“Alright, Freddie. You’ve got yourself a deal.” The smile Freddie returned to Will’s words was enormous. The rest of Will’s evening was spent releasing short clips on Instagram announcing that he was alive still and thanking his fans. In these clips, however, Freddie made sure he looked properly sweaty and cued him from off camera of when to cough to seem sicklier than he was. It was a ridiculous smoke and mirrors game that Will would usually scoff at, but he was happy to hide behind it for once. After photographs that had to be lit in just the right way to make his eyes seem yellow, and short update after update, Freddie finally left so that Will could sleep.

 

Will awoke to the smell of freshly cooked sausage. For a moment, he forgot he was in the hospital. Will found himself remembering when he stayed in Greenville, New York with his dad, they would often go to the breakfasts run by the Medusa Fire House. “Medusa” seemed like such a menacing name for a place of mercy, but that was what the town was called. Something about Greek mythology had the most sophisticated of people looking back on the most abhorrent acts and saying, “beautiful.” Smells so easily brought people back to their most trivial-seeming of memories, and all the associations that came with them. Will allowed himself to inhale deeply one more time before opening his eyes.

  
“Good morning.” That accent was unmistakable. Will found himself very surprised however to see Dr. Lecter not only there, but dishing out two plates of a delectable looking breakfast. “I made us some breakfast. Lord knows you can’t eat the stuff they serve here.” Will couldn’t remember actually putting the sausage on his fork and bringing it to his lips, he simply knew that it was in his mouth and it was succulent. The juices themselves were enough to make this simple breakfast of sausage and eggs into a festival of tastes.

  
“This is incredible.” Will said this as more of a statement of fact than a compliment.

  
“You flatter me.” Dr. Lecter said with a small nod that was reminiscent of a gallant knight kneeling to receive his laurels. Somehow this Dr. Lecter was able to say humbling statements, and yet remain the most dominant personality in the room. Will found himself studying the man as he continued to eat. He would make a fascinating character to play in the future, of course Will doubted that this surgeon would ever be interesting enough to warrant a film. “Is there something you wish to know?” Will was slightly embarrassed to have been caught at blatantly analyzing the man. Will again donned his “good-humored-and-approachable” face.

  
“I’m just trying to discern whether you’re a fan or not.” Will took another forkful of food, “will I be paying for this meal with an autograph?” The doctor seemed amused by this response.

  
“Then allow me to put your mind at ease, I am not a fan.” This was an unusual statement for Will to hear. Sure, it wasn’t that he got mobbed on the street but he was stopped for pictures and signings whenever he was out in public. Will Graham was far from an obscure actor, so if one claimed to not be a fan it was not due to a lack of exposure.

  
“Have my performances offended you?” Will asked, eyebrows raised but he kept a bemused smirk plastered onto his expression.

  
“Not yet.” The doctor stated plainly while diverting all of his attention to his meal. “But you will.” This man amused Will. He wasn’t sure if he was being insulted or played with.

  
“Is that your medical opinion, doctor?” Will couldn’t get offended by things like this. It was beneath him as an experienced actor, and yet he seemed to care about this surgeon’s thoughts.

  
Dr. Lecter wiped his lips before looking directly at Will, “It’s merely my own personal commentary on modern Hollywood.” He returned his attention to his food, “You will undoubtedly give your best possible performance, but a pandering script will never be anything more than kitsch.”

  
“You sound as though you’re referring to a film not yet made?” Will couldn’t decipher whether this surgeon was a cynic who never went to the movies or an avid film critic who consumed the most obscure titles at every opportunity.

  
“This current film about the Chesapeake Ripper,” on saying the murderer’s title, there was an ever so slight shaking of his head, “do you not find the whole concept gimmicky?” Now Will felt he knew what this doctor’s perspective was. He knew there had been wide criticism on making a film about a murderer not yet caught, there was a fear of glamorizing and even sensationalizing these violent acts.

  
Will exhaled, “Off the record?” the doctor motioned that Will could speak freely. “I only accepted the part because the original screenplay was based on the actual FBI profile of the Ripper.” Will consumed another forkful. “Now I’m contractually obligated to follow through with it despite the horrendous rewrites. Although the Ripper may be a killer, he was the one butchered in this film.” Will reminisced on the first few drafts of the script he’d received. The character he was playing originally was confident, suave, and highly educated. The current rewrite was unhinged in order to reassure the paying audience that the killer wouldn’t be someone they trusted.

  
“Do you consider the Chesapeake Ripper to be a villain?” This was posed as a genuine question, one that Will had never been asked. Normally Will would respond with, “Oh of course! He’s a brutal killer!” but he found that he paused and felt he could be honest.

  
“No.” Will hesitated. “When I play a part, I see it from their perspective and their justifications. Every person has their own viewpoint, their own personal design. No matter how graphic or violent that design is, it will always be art.” Will focused on his food as he was quite sure that the doctor would be afraid of him now.

  
“If that’s how you feel,” here it was, Will knew he had been too honest and now this doctor was going to have him lobotomized, “then you may consider me your newest fan.” Will had to look up and study Dr. Lecter’s face to make sure there were no traces of irony. The doctor merely smiled back at him in turn, leaving Will speechless and staring. “Something wrong with your food?” Dr. Lecter motioned at the fact that Will was no longer eating.

  
Before Will could respond, his cell phone rang. Will made his apologies before answering it and turning slightly away to give the illusion of privacy. “Hello?” a panicked voice that somehow kept its tone of arrogance was on the other end, meaning it could only be one person. “Director Chilton, is everything all right?”

  
“Oh, fine, fine, Will.” Chilton gasped ironically and irritably. “My leading man is in the hospital and I’m being sued for arbitration. How could things be anything but all right?” Will not only rolled his eyes, but actually felt his will to live decrease the longer he talked to his director.

  
“Isn’t suing for arbitration really normal for screenwriters? Shouldn’t your lawyers know how to handle it?” The response Will got was not succinct or interesting, so Will couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. “Well, I just read what you give me on the page now…” Will looked over to Dr. Lecter whose piercing gaze was still fixed on Will. Will would have thought that the doctor would have at least returned to eating or fidgeted, but instead this man simply looked at Will. No, it wasn’t simple, it was a focused stare. Like the man was studying him. Will knew he should have been put-off by this, but instead, he was intrigued. Instead of listening to his insufferable director whine, he could set to work on trying to understand this Dr. Lecter and what drives him. “I’m really not well, so whatever you want to say, make it quick.” Will forced a cough to add to the statement. Dr. Lecter scoffed slightly, amused by the action, the doctor was without a doubt shamelessly listening to Will’s conversation.

  
“I need you to tell me that you can actually do this movie. I don’t want to waste hours of shooting only to have to recast in a month. If you can’t do this project, it’s time to step down.” Chilton was more irritable than usual.

  
“I’m under a doctor’s care and he assures me I can do this film. That should be the only answer you need.” Will suppressed an actual cough by making it sound as though he was only clearing his throat. “Now will you let me rest?” Chilton yielded and Will hung up. He looked at Dr. Lecter, not knowing what to say. Was he supposed to talk about the conversation he just had, therefore validating the doctor’s blatant eavesdropping? He could act as though the whole thing didn’t happen, but he wanted to delve in deeper to the things that made this doctor so unique, he didn’t want to shy away from his peculiarities. Will crossed his arms and made a simple statement: “You were listening.”

  
The surgeon looked back at his food, even though the time to look away would have been while Will was on the phone, “People like to be listened to. I was merely trying to pay you a compliment.” Will found himself chuckling.

  
“Are phone calls not private affairs where you come from?” Will didn’t mean to sound rude or xenophobic, he felt the surgeon would recognize that this was said in good humor. What he really hoped to gain, was more knowledge on the surgeon.

  
“Lithuania.” Dr. Lecter responded simply. “It’s a difficult accent to place.” Will’s stated question would not be answered, but information was being given which is all he really wanted.

  
“So what made you come to America? Do you dream of a white picket fence and two-point-five kids?” Will preferred talking about others than himself.

  
“I came to eat.” Dr. Lecter put another slice of sausage in his mouth. “The variety of meats one can sample here, is divine.” It seemed an odd answer to Will, but then again, this man was certainly an excellent chef.

  
“Then why not devote your life to meat? Or do you prefer carving at the operating table rather than the dinner table?” Will thought it was a small joke, worthy of a smile maybe, but he got an actual laugh out of the doctor at that.

  
“A table’s a table.” The surgeon responded. “I do what I can with what I am given.” Will almost wanted to praise the man’s cooking again, but he stopped himself, he didn’t like showing his hand. He thought about how this man must be one of the more skilled people with a knife. He wondered if while operating, he ever had a flash to preparing a dish. These thoughts reminded Will of getting lost in his own mind and believing that he was gutting a fish while on set, he put that out of his mind though before being interrupted. “What have you learned?” The surgeon said, Will was taken out of his head.

  
“What?”

  
“You seem to be studying me quite closely, I’m eager to hear what you’ve learned.” Will was embarrassed to have been caught staring, but he found he couldn’t help himself.

  
“I just…” Will wanted to just say, “you fascinate me, can I play you?” or “I’m attracted to you, but I don’t know if it’s sexual or intellectual yet.” So he simply settled on, “I think I could use your help with my character.” Dr. Lecter motioned for him to elaborate. “You know your way around a knife, so does the Chesapeake Ripper, I only use mine for gutting fish. You, however, know what it’s like to use it on a person.”

  
“It’s not so different.” There seemed to be the slightest smirk on Dr. Lecter’s face. “Though you can imagine the smell is different.”

  
“Aren’t you supposed to wear masks while operating? Or do you just smell bodies in your spare time?” This was Will’s response to the cold doctor’s thoughts on such a gruesome topic. Will felt like this half-joke was him deflecting, but what was he deflecting away from himself exactly? Was it that he was repulsed by the other man’s equating of fish to people, or was it that he feared the fact that he had already made that connection while on set earlier? Will knew he felt fear, but he didn’t know if it was the doctor he feared or himself.

  
“I have a very attentive nose.” Dr. Lecter inhaled slightly before taking another bite of his food, “It would take more than a thin piece of cheap fabric to dull my senses.” Will gulped uncomfortably, he began to imagine what a still beating heart would smell like and he found himself sickened. “Does this dialogue make you uncomfortable?”

“Shouldn’t it make everyone?” Normalcy. The thing Will desired for himself.

  
“If you wish to be ordinary, I suppose.” Dr. Lecter looked back at his food and took another bite. “But you are already doomed to a life of the extraordinary, so why fight it?”

  
“Actors are people, just like everyone else.” Will rolled his eyes. He hated the whole hero-worship of celebrities. He’d hardly done anything meaningful to society. “If you rob me of my humanity, how can I be expected to play human roles?”

  
“Of course you’re human, that is what makes you exceptional.” The surgeon was looking directly at Will now. “Gods cannot empathize, they kill and create for their own purpose. Even your fellow members of humanity hardly see the perspective of others. Among those that walk the Earth, you are one of the most truly human. That, in a sense, is what makes you unable to be normal. We normal people are not as good as you.”

  
Will found himself taken aback and blushing slightly. He wished Dr. Lecter would look away for a moment, almost as though he was bashful about such an in-depth compliment, but that stare continued to penetrate him. Will’s heart started beating rapidly, which would have been subtle had he not been hooked up to an EKG machine that allowed anyone to hear and see his anxiety. Hearing the frantic beeping made the whole situation worse and again he wished the surgeon would have some tact and talk about something else. He let his compliment hang there though, and his stare refused to waver.

  
“You should be careful how you phrase things, doctor.” He could make a small joke to distract. “We wouldn’t want me getting the wrong idea about your intentions.” He let out an awkward chuckle but it was not reciprocated.

  
“Please, call me Hannibal.” There was the slightest smirk on the doctor’s face. Why would he say that right after Will tried to reiterate the professionalism of their relationship? Was this an actual flirtation? It had been a long time since a man had flirted with Will, he honestly couldn’t quite tell if that’s what this was. Female flirting was also rare for Will these days, there were definite offers, but he knew that the way those women treated him was different because of his fame. He put the thought out of his head that this could be a romantic conversation that would most likely violate some sort of oath that doctors had to take. Instead, Will contemplated that the misunderstanding most likely was happening due to their different cultures. Will had never visited Lithuania, he hardly knew anything about the country so it was possible that this was a perfectly normal and platonic conversation. “Now, how are you feeling, Will?”

  
“Good.” He said almost automatically. He felt that this confirmed the lack of flirting in this conversation, it was back to business and this man was only showing him particular attention because it was his job as a doctor. He couldn’t understand how he felt about that revelation. Was it relief or disappointment?

  
“Will, if you were feeling well then you would not even know me.” He rose from his seat and approached Will’s bedside. “I’m going to check your pulse, the heart monitor was giving some odd readings a moment ago, I want to make sure it’s working properly.” Had he really not understood what that was all about? If he thinks the heart rate wasn’t caused by the man’s intensity, would he prescribe the wrong medication for Will?

  
Will tried to calm his heart, to slow his breathing, but now Hannibal was leaning over him and pressing his stethoscope against his chest. Despite the metal being cold, he felt warmth from the closeness of the man. There was something sophisticated and smoky in the man’s scent; a smokiness to it that Will associated with camping but there was another smell that established that this man was more refined then that. Will wanted to say it was the scent of Chianti but he didn’t know his wines well enough to be sure.  
Will found his heart still unable to calm down. He closed his eyes in an attempt to soothe himself, though without his sense of sight he became mesmerized in the rhythm of the doctor’s breathing, his touch, and his difficult to place smell. For some reason, though, Will was able to feel more relaxed with his eyes closed. Maybe he didn’t have to think about the closeness of the doctor, maybe he wasn’t so self-conscious if he pretended it was just the two of them in the room, perhaps it was just some sort of psychological exercise. Either way, it helped.

  
“What did you decide?” Will opened his eyes, the doctor was still standing over him but was now looking into his eyes and smiling.

  
“I’m sorry?”

  
“You inhaled, what did you decide of my aftershave?” He switched from the stethoscope to holding Will’s wrist and taking his pulse. The heartrate went right back to uncontrollable speeds. There was the slightest smirk at the change from Hannibal, but Will couldn’t be sure he hadn’t just imagined it.

  
“Very…” He tried to think of the correct word for describing another man’s scent. “Polished.” This seemed to please Hannibal enough, he nodded slightly with a smile and went back to his chair.

  
“Yours was difficult to avoid, like something with a ship on the bottle.” Will scoffed, he assumed this was the doctor’s way of saying that it was normal to become hyperaware when someone gets so close. “You should allow me to introduce you to a finer aftershave, one that’s more…” He paused slightly, “tasteful.”

  
Will decided then that he would distract himself from the things going wrong with the film and going wrong with his mind, by learning all he could about the Dr. Hannibal Lecter. It could be that there was nothing worthwhile or interesting about this doctor. He could go home after a day’s work, change into sweats and an old t-shirt, and simply kill time before eventually going to sleep. He could have a family to go home to that was equally mundane, but to the doctor they were the most important people in the universe. He could grab a few beers with some coworkers after his shifts and be the life of every party. Will felt that nothing and everything would surprise him about this man, he seemed as though he had some completely unique hobby, and therefore Will was determined to learn what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter they will be out of the hospital and things will really start heating up! I hope you're enjoying it so far.


	3. Saganaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's hallucinations continue but he still refuses treatment in order to feel closer to his character. He also becomes closer with Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

The film was following proper schedule despite Chilton acting like every minor inconvenience was the death of them all. Will had been released from the hospital and although Freddie was finished filming, she continued to visit daily and ensured that properly worrying photos of Will were leaked to the public. Abigail visited when she could, her arms crossed and she continued to make it clear that she felt Will’s decision not to take medicine was irresponsible and idiotic. Still, Will felt a certain loneliness in his days despite it being almost crowded with so many spontaneous visits. Normally, Will would want less people around so he could simply be with his dogs but he kept smiling whenever there was a knock at the door.

  
Hannibal never called ahead of time, he would simply appear to ask him about his health, take notes, and excite his taste buds with whatever he felt like bringing over to eat. Will found himself answering the door more quickly than ever nowadays, not even bothering to get properly dressed before seeing who it was. More than enough, Freddie would be the recipient of this sight and a mischievous smirk would grace her face before Will asserted that she was not allowed to post a picture on her social media until he at least covered himself. Today, Will had the day off, Freddie and Abigail had carpooled and visited together and Will was just left to sit there, hoping.

  
Will lay on the couch, Buster was snuggled around his feet while the rest of the pack was lazing around him. He saw a stag through the window, but it oddly didn’t startle him. The window opened and the Stag leaped inside, it continued to get closer and closer to Will, almost charging at him but he remained still.

  
“Will?” Hannibal’s accented voice shocked him awake. “The door was unlocked.” There were excited dogs all around the doctor, hoping he’d brought sausages with him again this time. He had.

  
Will hurriedly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. While he had been fine with answering the door in just boxers and a t-shirt, he wasn’t quite comfortable with being seen as so vulnerable and unconscious by the doctor.

  
“Dr. Lecter… I wasn’t expecting you.” A lie, he’d been hoping to see Hannibal. But this was less embarrassing.

“Forgive me for intruding.” The doctor didn’t seem remotely bashful about it. “Would you like me to make some coffee?”

  
“No, no, please let me do it.” He didn’t like being viewed as weak and helpless, though his stumbling when he attempted to stand up hardly helped.

  
“Will.” Hannibal put a guiding yet forceful hand on Will’s shoulder, pushing him to sit back down. “I’m your doctor. Rest.” And so Will sat and watched as Hannibal prepared coffee in a kitchen that wasn’t his own. He liked watching the doctor. That was about the only thing he knew he was sure of when it came to Hannibal.

  
Will couldn’t decide if this was fascination, a character study, or an attraction. He knew he was drawn to the doctor but that could mean so many things. Will couldn’t quite remember if he’d ever really had feelings for another man in a romantic sense. He had connected deeply with other men and he had played gay characters, where he tried his best to empathize with their feelings; but he was never sure where the acting ended and bisexuality began. This doctor was giving him an interesting crisis of identity for now he wasn’t even sure if he had felt this intensely about a woman before. Will had always tended toward relationships that were built to fail so he supposed that that could signify some sort of repressed homosexuality. However, Will wasn’t even sure if the intensity he felt for Hannibal had anything to do with romance or lust.

  
“Penny for your thoughts?” Hannibal asked, looking slightly over his shoulder at Will while still making coffee.

  
“What do you know of the human psyche?” Will deflected. “Specifically sexuality.” He felt that if he broached the topic bluntly, he wouldn’t be suspected as having any personal motivations for discussing it.

  
“I used to be a psychiatrist.” Hannibal left the coffee to brew and turned his entire attention on Will. “What would you like to know?”

  
“The Chesapeake Ripper…” Will knew he could make a connection somehow. “In the script, they’re writing him as almost having a sexual desire connected to his victims…” He continued to think about how Hollywood was pushing the film to be more cliché, “Do you think he even has those feelings or is he purely a monster?”

  
“A lack of sexual desire hardly makes one a monster.” The doctor replied. “In fact, I would argue that more acts of violence are committed by those who surrender to their passions.” Hannibal poured the coffee into two separate mugs and served it to Will black. He didn’t ask Will what his preferences were and for some reason, Will felt he wasn’t allowed to comment.

  
“So you think he does love his victims in that way? He kills both men and women so wouldn’t that imply that he’s bi?” The script only portrayed a sexual desire for the female victims, not the males.

  
“Sexuality is relatively fluid and the Chesapeake Ripper seems hardly conventional.” He sat down next to Will on the couch. “But passion is not innately sexual. You are passionate about acting, I am passionate about cooking. Perhaps the Ripper’s victims offend the principals that he is passionate about. Hasn’t anyone ever been so rude to you that you couldn’t control your anger?”

  
“So if passion can motivate a person to murder…” Will tried to regain his original purpose for this line of questioning, “can it motivate a person to love in order to feed that passion?” Hannibal tilted his head slightly so Will continued, “Say you met someone who could make you a better chef, or maybe they could provide you with the best meats? Maybe that person was just the perfect person to appreciate your cooking… could your passion for food motivate you to love them?”

  
“Not exactly,” There was a wide grin on Hannibal’s face, “though it could certainly motivate me to lust after them. I would know that I loved that person once I placed them above my passion.” He took another sip of his coffee, “Perhaps they wouldn’t want me to prepare a certain dish due to the cruelty involved in the slaughter of the animal; if I chose to value their desires over my passion, I’d know I was in love.”

  
Will didn’t respond to this, he simply thought about it deeply while drinking the coffee that Hannibal had prepared. He didn’t know how, but this black coffee tasted better than it had whenever he had made it himself. He thought about how easy it was to view Dr. Lecter as a character instead of a real person, simply because the man’s presence was almost as overpowering as the aroma coming from his mug.

  
“I could see you lusting after the Chesapeake Ripper.” That took Will from his thoughts. “Theoretically.” Hannibal added with a small smile.

  
“Do you really think your passion for cooking could lead you to murder or love?” Will wanted to keep the conversation away from his own passions.

  
“I already slaughter my own meat.” Hannibal shrugged before taking a quick sip. “Though I’m still waiting on the love part.” Will found himself excited to hear that Hannibal was single. He hid his smile with taking another drink of coffee. “Your episode on set that sent you to the hospital proves that you can get so lost in a character that you would be capable of murder.”

  
“I didn’t kill anyone.” Will shivered. “I just thought I did.”

  
”You allowed your mind to believe a lie so that you could be true to your character.” Hannibal turned his body slightly to be facing Will more than simply sitting next to him.

“Being a murderer in that moment strengthened your performance; you killed for your passion in your own mind.” Hannibal leaned in closer and Will felt as though this would be a lean into a kiss. He didn’t fight it, he welcomed the certainty to what he was feeling, and he longed for Dr. Lecter to kiss him.

  
The kiss never came. Instead, the surgeon brushed Will’s slight bangs back slightly and stroked Will’s forehead. “You have a fascinating mind in there, Will.” Hannibal’s hand was like ice, but that came as a relief to Will due to the overwhelming heat he constantly felt because of his fever. Hannibal moved his hand too soon for Will. He felt safe in that moment and he was so sure of himself and everything he was feeling. Once the hand went away though, he still couldn’t determine what he was feeling for the doctor. He thought about just going for it so that way the aftermath of displaying his feelings would allow him to actually know those feelings himself. He wanted to kiss Hannibal, but not Dr. Lecter.

  
He needed Dr. Lecter to remain his physician, to continue to study his disease instead of curing it. He couldn’t know if another doctor would be interested in a study of how his encephalitis would progress. He couldn’t afford to be cured, not when the delusions from the disease gave him his first real insight into the character. He had become addicted to that twisted world view with just a look at a shadow of what the real Ripper must think. He’d actually been completely apathetic to carving a body, he related the corpse to fish in his own mind, nothing more than a piece of meat. He’d seen the dailies from that taping, it was the most haunting performance he’d ever given. In that moment, he felt that he was the Chesapeake Ripper. He couldn’t risk the patient-doctor relationship changing in any way that would put his current state of being in jeopardy. Will felt he must suffer with inaction.

  
“Dr. Lecter?” Hannibal tilted his head, waiting for Will to continue. “When you look behind yourself, what do you see?” All other thoughts were out of Will’s head now, the stag from his dream was leaning its head over the arm of the couch behind Hannibal. Hannibal turned to look.

  
“What do you see, Will?” He said calmly while noting that Will’s dog, Winston, was happily observing them over the arm of the couch.

  
“I see a stag… I’ve seen it before in my dreams.” He found himself clutching to Hannibal’s arm out of fear. The doctor glanced at the action with a raised eyebrow but then looked directly at Will.

  
“I see nothing, Will.” Hannibal lied into his eyes. Will couldn’t believe that a stag was there, but he was horrified to think there was nothing there at all.

  
“You wouldn’t lie to me?” Will found himself doubting the doctor’s word but when Hannibal gave no response he began to panic. “Are you lying to me?”

  
“Will…” There was a thoughtful pause from Hannibal, “there’s nothing there.”

  
“Please don’t lie to me!” The Stag seemed to grow larger, darker, and more sinister. It was no longer an animal, but some sort of humanoid, black monster with antlers. Will wanted to believe the doctor, but if there was a chance of this being real, he feared for his life. That was the last thing he thought and felt before everything went dark for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will upload the next chapter soon, I hope you are still enjoying the story!


	4. Fasolada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Will's symptoms get worse and worse, Hannibal cannot deny that it would be reckless to not at least treat some of them. However, this would force Will to confront his fear that curing him may take away his empathy. Will becomes desperate to distract Dr. Lecter from giving him treatment.

“You had a mild seizure.” Will awoke to himself lying alone on the couch, blanketed with Hannibal’s suit jacket. “You should be fine now. Although…” Hannibal knelt down to Will’s eye-level and used his fingers to remove the excess saliva from inside his mouth. Will coughed more in surprise than anything else.

  
“You couldn’t have done that while I was out?” Will wasn’t sure what was going on still, he just knew that having fingers shoved in his mouth suddenly was bizarre.

  
“No.” Hannibal smirked. “There’d be a risk of causing injury to yourself or you possibly biting me. It’s standard to wait for the patient to be awake.”

  
“Can’t the patient do it himself?” Will couldn’t quite remember what had happened, he wasn’t even sure he was a patient in this case or where he was.

  
“Not this patient.” Hannibal motioned to Will’s hands. That was when Will first noticed Hannibal’s tie around his wrists. “You were becoming volatile, I had to restrain you for your own protection.”

  
“Oh.” Will honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. It made sense medically but he couldn’t ignore the sexual connotations of being in this position. “Can you untie me now?”

  
“Depends.” Hannibal crossed his arms. “Will you behave yourself?” Will was speechless. He could never tell if innuendo was meant or not with this man. Suddenly it felt like he was in some sort of porn with how sexually charged the doctor’s words seemed.

  
“Do you want me to?” Will heard himself responding. He cursed himself for flirting with the doctor after having just resolved to keep their relationship professional. Still, Will almost felt like it was expected of him to flirt in this situation and he found himself eager to please.

  
“We’ll see.” Hannibal smiled while he untied Will. “Don’t sit up too fast.” Will obeyed and rose slowly and then rubbed his now free wrists. “I’m going to write you a prescription for Carbamazepine in order to help your seizures, you’ll have t—“

  
“No!” Will quickly interrupted. “That will interrupt with your research, won’t it? I think advancing medical science is more important than me having temporary episodes.”

  
“These are seizures, Will.” He sat down on the couch next to Will. “They’re not to be taken lightly.”

  
“I…” Will tried to think of a reason that made sense. He still felt it was too soon. He may have been losing his mind, but if it was helping him empathize how could he deny it? He’d gained more fame than he felt he deserved through this very strength, it seemed fitting that it was all due to a disease. “I just don’t want to waste all the work we’ve done.”

  
“You’re holding something back, Will.” Hannibal was not about to buy into Will’s half-baked lies. “What are you so afraid of?” Instead of answering, Will pressed his lips against Hannibal’s.

  
“Nothing.” He whispered into the doctor’s ear. If he took this risk now, he could buy his disease some time. Will felt that the thing destroying his brain somehow had more right to survival than he did.

  
“Will…” Hannibal breathed. This was what Will dreaded, the doctor’s rejection. Will lowered his head, feeling a mixture of emotions, all negative. “may we relocate to the bedroom?” Hannibal lifted Will’s chin and smiled. Will returned the grin tenfold.

  
“I’ve never…” Will didn’t want to sabotage something that already seemed too good to be true, but he felt he owed it to Hannibal as he led him to the bed. “I’ve never really done this with another man before.” He’d filmed a gay sex scene in one of his previous films, but that hardly counted.

  
“I’m flattered to be the first.” Hannibal bowed his head slightly before unbuttoning his tailored vest and delicately placing it on a chair. “But I believe it’s only right for me to even the playing field.” He motioned to Will’s apparel, still just an undershirt and boxers.

  
“Allow me.” Will eagerly began unbuttoning Hannibal’s shirt. He found that most of the women he slept with worried about exposing themselves, due to the fact that Will was in incredible shape due to his career. Attraction was never purely physical with Will, but the immense confidence that the doctor exuded piqued Will’s interest. “Wow…”

  
Hannibal was already slightly taller than Will, which was a bit rare due to Will being 5’11” but not as surprising as the doctor’s physical prowess. It wasn’t an absurd amount of muscles, the man clearly didn’t starve himself to get the perfect look, but there was clear muscle definition. While Hollywood may have taken a certain physical perfection for granted, an actor such as Will Graham was hyper aware of how much time and commitment it takes to achieve an impressive body. Will found himself staring until Hannibal laughed and embraced him.

  
“I find your timing interesting,” Hannibal breathed into Will’s neck. “how long were you planning to wait?”

  
“Mm,” Will let out with a smile. He hadn’t imagined the sexual undertones of their conversations. “I could ask you the same thing. I kept thinking you were going to kiss me but you never did.” Will began unbuckling Hannibal’s belt. He was feeling clarity for the first time. He knew that once he was alone he’d probably panic and question what he was doing, but when he was with Dr. Lecter, he felt sure of himself. “So I had to take matters into my own hands.” As he said that, he slipped his hand down Hannibal’s pants. He couldn’t believe his own sudden sexual appetite but he also couldn’t believe that Hannibal pulled away from Will’s touch and stopped their actions.

  
“Wait.” Hannibal said simply. “We need to keep waiting.” This was easily a first for Will. He wasn’t particularly active sexually, but when he did indulge, his partners were usually almost too accommodating to spend the night with Will Graham. “You just had a seizure and you’re not thinking clearly.”

  
“You need to stop thinking so much.” Will replied with a weak smile. “This feels right, doesn’t it?” It was back to mixed signals, Will had only just been given clarity and now he was lost again. He wouldn’t have undressed the doctor, he wouldn’t have gone to the bedroom if he thought he was making Hannibal uncomfortable. He had been so sure though, it had been Hannibal who suggested the move to the bedroom, hadn’t it?

  
“What feels right is not always safe.” Hannibal smiled and put his hand on Will’s cheek. “We can have everything if we’re patient.” He guided Will to sit on the bed, this furthered Will’s confusion.

  
“If you’re worried about my career…” Will began. It’s true that people would view him differently if he came out as bi or gay, but he would hardly be the first actor to and it was almost expected of Hollywood at this point. There would be some adjustments and most likely some short-lived boycotts, but if this was who Will was he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  
“I’m worried about you, Will.” He began getting dressed, clearly signaling that their fun was over. “Not only are you physically weakened, just a little while ago you were imagining a Stag where there was nothing. You need to rest and think before doing anything drastic.”

  
“You don’t need to take care of me.” Will felt it was his mistake to make.

  
“Actually, I do.” Hannibal said. “You’re my patient and I’m doing a study on you. I could be sued for malpractice if anything happened to you. And…” Hannibal knelt down and held Will’s hand in his. “I would be emotionally distraught if you were harmed.” They smiled at each other for a moment before Hannibal gave Will a simple kiss on the forehead. “Now, you try and relax. I am going to leave you for a while. I’ll return with dinner.”

  
Will was disappointed but at the same time he knew the doctor was right. He had kissed Hannibal to avoid medication, but he expected rejection, not physical exertion. He watched the regal man leave and as the adrenaline left his system, he began feeling ill again. For a quick moment, and only for a moment, Will thought he saw that black, antlered monster from before in the place of Hannibal. Will succumbed to his need for sleep and didn’t give the sight another thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More hallucinations, sexy times, and gourmet food to come! Plus, the Chesapeake Ripper will strike again soon!


	5. Kalamata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal returns with dinner and the two have their first meal together since acknowledging their feelings. However, their pseudo-date gets interrupted by something truly horrifying.

Abigail Hobbes was stripped naked, not sexually, but almost symbolically. Antlers pierced her from her backside and ultimately went completely through her. Will’s gaze followed the antlers to what he thought would be a stag head but instead, was that same black monster. At first, Will was simply observing the horror, not feeling a thing besides curiosity but then the monster turned and stared directly at him with its soulless, glowing eyes. Needless to say, Will woke up in a nervous sweat. He chalked that up to the nightmare but the anxiety in his stomach told him that there was something wrong with Abigail.

He knew his fears would subside once he heard Abigail’s voice but unfortunately she wasn’t answering her phone. Will called her a total of six times, only getting her voicemail, not even having the false hope of waiting through the ringing. The phone was off or dead. He told himself that it was nothing, she must be filming so her phone had to be off or at least on airplane mode. Maybe she was trying to catch some sleep and didn’t want to be woken. Will tried to convince himself that his imagined scenarios made him feel better, but his stomach still felt as though it was being twisted and warped. He decided his dogs would probably be the only things that could calm him down so he went to receive some much needed animal attention.

The apartment felt so empty again, despite the five dogs jumping in Will’s face. He had almost been hoping that Hannibal would be back before he woke up, but it seemed he would have to wait. Partially to distract himself from worrying about Abigail, and also to kill time, Will decided to view dinner tonight as a date and make himself presentable. He’d already shown his hand by making the first move and ultimately being told to wait, so now he felt he had to entice Hannibal’s own desires.

Will knew to start with a shower, but after that he couldn’t help but overanalyze every choice. Will looked through his drawers as he never hung up anything besides jackets. Mostly, there were just flannels and then the occasional white button up shirt that could be paired with a nice sports jacket. He had those for formal events but he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. After sifting through all his imperfect options, he settled on an olive green long sleeved knit shirt that had two buttons up to its crew neck collar. He felt the cut was flattering on him, but it was casual and unassuming. He paired it with some dark wash jeans and Will felt that he at least looked kissable. Still, he found himself overanalyzing himself in the mirror and trying to discern what he could add without it being too much. He spied his reading glasses on his nightstand, considering that the doctor was an academic, he thought that might score him a few aesthetic points.  He tried them on and kept looking himself over in the mirror. He didn’t feel that he looked like he was trying too hard but he wasn’t sure if they aged him too much. Will hadn’t really dressed himself in a long time, normally it was up to wardrobe or his publicist. Otherwise, he was going to a read through or fishing, neither of which did he worry about his fashion for. He hoped he didn’t look like someone’s father but that he looked smart.

The knock on his door forced him to commit. Will let Hannibal and the food for dinner in.

“What did you prepare?” Will asked, not particularly caring, he knew whatever it was would be delicious. On top of that, he was more distracted by Hannibal’s backside as he walked passed him. He had previously avoided blatantly checking the doctor out before, limiting the physical observations to what his eyes would already be naturally drawn to. Now that he’d already made his interest known, he felt he might as well exude confidence whether he actually felt that way or not.

“Kalamata Pork Tenderloin” Hannibal said with a smirk while placing the container down on the table. “The Kalamata olives give a traditionally simplistic dish a more exotic flavor, one hailing from Greece.”

“My knowledge of Greece is limited to ancient Gods and even then, I’m rusty.” Will was still leaning against the door, he felt that he couldn’t assist in any way during the preparation. Hannibal always wanted to lay out the food in a specific way and whatever table setting he made was far better than anything Will had ever attempted. He felt somewhat useless at this moment. He was at least able to corral the dogs away from Hannibal and the food. “I have wine, if you’d like.” Will knew that what you were eating dictated what kind of wine to drink and he actually knew this one. “How about a nice glass of Chianti?” Even though he knew that was an appropriate suggestion, he was overcome with anxiety as he waited for Hannibal to say something.

“That…” Hannibal was focusing on how he repositioned the silverware but he eventually looked Will directly in the eyes, “would be lovely.” Will grinned from the validation and then quickly tried to mask it as he looked for that bottle. A producer had given it to him as a gift not too long ago but Will hardly ever entertained and when he did it was a more informal, beer occasion anyway. He was relieved when the bottle was right where he’d thought it would be, so far the date was going alright. “Did you rest well?”

“Uh, yeah.” Will briefly thought of his nightmare and how he’d still not heard from Abigail but he hardly wanted to talk about any of that. “You were right to give me some time.” Will brought the bottle of Chianti, a cork screw, and two wine glasses over to the table. Hannibal pulled out a chair and motioned for Will to sit down. Will obeyed.

“I must admit…” There was a pop when Hannibal removed the cork from the bottle, “it was difficult for me to walk away.” Will was ecstatic to hear this. “I hope that time I gave you hasn’t made you rethink your actions?” Hannibal said while pouring the wine into both glasses. Will was ready to immediately soothe the doctor’s fears but he stopped himself, he knew he shouldn’t play all of his cards at once.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Will held up his glass and Hannibal clinked it with a smirk. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Unlike Will, Hannibal didn’t begin eating. Instead, he watched Will carefully, studying him.

“This is absolutely delicious.” Will said with food still in his mouth. There were at least three dogs under the table, looking with pleading eyes for a sample. Will simply patted them on their heads. “I’ll never get over how excellent of a cook you are. I may swear off all other food and just ask you to be my chef.” Will smiled at Hannibal, it was meant to be a first date, right? Compliments abound wouldn’t be viewed as odd now that feelings were out in the open.

“Is that a promise?” Hannibal began digging into his food. “Would you deliver your friends to my table?”

“Mm, not likely.” Will shook his head and took a sip of wine. “I’m not sure I want to share you.” This was mostly playful banter, but Will also feared the concept of revealing this relationship to others just yet. It wasn’t a fear of publicity and whether or not there would be acceptance based on sexuality, but Hannibal scared Will. He trusted Hannibal without believing a word he said. It was an odd feeling of constantly being on edge but also being so eager to please. His “friends” were still kept at an arm’s length, Will wasn’t sure he wanted them to see him this vulnerable.

“Getting jealous already.” Hannibal smiled. “Should I be worried?”

“You were a psychiatrist, I’m sure you’re already aware of how insecure actors are.” Will slightly tilted his head to the right while rolling his eyes. “I need an audience in my work for validation, so how confident can I be in my personal relationships?”

“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper is insecure?” This was hardly first-date conversation “He does seem to need an audience after all.” Will couldn’t help but smile at this. He found character analysis for the Chesapeake Ripper to be fascinating but it was genuinely endearing for the doctor to be willing to discuss it over dinner.

“True, and I do think he desires validation as well, but…” Will tried to articulate his thoughts without sounding insane, “The Ripper seems to want some sort of personal connection. His presentations aren’t just for shock value, you can tell that they are each individual works of art with deep meaning. He’s not looking for mass appeal or marketability, he’s showing his true self and daring someone to accept that.” Will took another bite of meat. “Compared to him, I’m a sellout.”

“There’s still time to redeem yourself.” Hannibal pointed his glass toward Will before taking another sip.

“Director Chilton would never let me play the Ripper how I want.” Will leaned back and sighed. “They want a monster.”

“And how exactly do you see the Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal seemed genuinely interested so Will again risked revealing his true thoughts.

“He’s brilliant.” Will leaned forward, motioning with his hands. “He’s charming, seductive, and suave. He knows exactly how to be loved in society, but he’s fully aware that he’s playing a part.” He took another sip of wine. “And because he knows what society wants from him, he recognizes how isolating his true self is. If you saw necessity in killing, and ultimately more beauty in what you could do with a corpse than a living being, wouldn’t you feel terribly lonely? Your most intense passion is something you could never reveal about yourself.”

“I would yearn for companionship every day.” Hannibal said, almost knowingly. He seemed to consider the sentiment very heavily as he took another sip of wine. “Do you think anyone ever could love the Ripper for who he is?” Will was surprised, but he felt as though Hannibal was saddened by the potential loneliness of the Chesapeake Ripper.

“I…” Will directed his attention back to his food. “I suppose it would have to be someone who could understand him.”

“You seem to understand him.” It was so blunt, almost accusatory, but stated so matter-of-factly. Will didn’t know how to respond, he didn’t know what Hannibal wanted from him and all he wanted to do was say the right thing. Luckily, he didn’t have to answer.

“Will!” There was pounding on the door that made both Will and Hannibal jump up. “Open up!” Will was both relieved and horrified when he saw a crying Abigail Hobbes at the door.


	6. Pastitsio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail gives Hannibal and Will some absolutely shocking news, shocking Will from the bubble he's been so comfortable living in. While he is shaken, Hannibal takes it upon himself to soothe him.

“Abigail, what happened?” The young woman was visibly panicking in the hallway. “Come inside.” Will hurried. The dogs were excited to have yet another guest, their attention seemed to overwhelm Abigail so Will endeavored to push them all back.

“He went after Chilton.” Abigail stammered out before noticing Hannibal in the room. Once she saw the doctor, she noticed the wine glasses and the two dinner plates, she probably put together what was happening but it hardly mattered now. “The Ripper took his eyes.”

“What?” Will couldn’t understand what was happening.

“Just a few hours ago, Chilton had something slipped into his tea, they said it was mushrooms.” Abigail sat down on the couch and held her head in her hands. “He doesn’t remember many details well after that, but the Ripper said that his ‘vision of the film was rude’ and took his eyes!”

“Chilton’s dead?” Will tried to process everything that was happening.

“No…” Abigail said, beginning to calm down but still distraught. “But he’ll be blind forever.”

“We should all count our blessings that it was not a lot worse.” Hannibal added to the conversation. “Do they have any leads on the Ripper?” Abigail just shook her head. “That is troubling.”

“We could be next, Will.” She was wringing her hands. “The public views directors and actors as being the most instrumental to any film.”

“Abigail, we don’t know that.” Will thought for a moment. He looked back at Hannibal and although it pained him to end their date, he felt it would be morally acceptable thing to do. “Do you want to crash here tonight though? So you don’t have to be alone?” Abigail shook her head.

“No, I’m staying with Freddie. She has a bodyguard and so much paparazzi camped outside her place all the time it’d be hard for anyone to get in unnoticed.” Abigail looked up at Will. Her eyes darted to Hannibal again for a moment, but then back at Will. “I actually came to get you.”

“Me?”

“I had a bunch of missed calls from you. I assumed you heard what happened and were freaking out.” At that reminder, all Will could think was how glad he was that Abigail wasn’t the one who got hurt.

“Oh that…” Will just shook his head. “Never mind that.” He thought about Abigail’s proposal to spend the night at Freddie’s for safety. “I’m going to stay here. I feel safer with my dogs in my own bed than surrounded by press anyway.”

“You’re sure? In your condition…” Abigail went back to the challenging demeanor she’d had in the hospital when Will said he didn’t want treatment. “What if something _does_ happen?”

“I’ll stay here with him.” Hannibal stepped forward with his commanding presence. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to Will.” Abigail looked the doctor over, a little skeptical but she would hardly argue the point.

“The Ripper probably doesn’t even know where I’m living right now anyway.” Will made the cautious move to stroke Abigail’s back soothingly, it was an odd gesture for him but it felt right. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Freddie’s downstairs waiting for us.” Abigail nodded. “You’re sure you won’t come with us?” Will guided her out into the hallway.

“I’ll be fine. Go and get some sleep.” Will gave a half smile. Abigail turned to leave but then embraced Will tightly. The hug lasted long but once it was over, Abigail was gone. Will closed the door and turned to face Hannibal. “This evening is not going the way I’d hoped.”

“I’m just glad to be here when you need me.” Hannibal smiled as he took his suit jacket off.

“You don’t have to spend the night, you know.” Will hated saying this, but he hardly wanted to force the doctor into something he was uncomfortable with. “If you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” Hannibal took a step closer to Will and suddenly the sexual tension was back in the room. Will wondered if it was inappropriate to want to rip the clothes off of the man in front of him despite all that was happening. “May I?”

Will didn’t even know what Hannibal was asking permission for but he nodded anyway. The doctor slowly removed Will’s glasses and placed them down. His cold hand again graced Will’s face, but this time it was to stroke his cheek. Will could feel himself melt into the touch and wasn’t even conscious of the fact that he had closed the gap between the two of them. With his free hand, Hannibal abruptly grabbed around Will’s waist and began to ravish his neck. Will found himself leaning over the doctor’s shoulder and grabbing onto the taller man’s back. He was so vulnerable and simply allowed Hannibal to do what he wished.

“Bedroom?” Will was able to whisper into Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal let out a slight chuckle and nodded. Will eagerly sat down on the bed and pulled his shirt off.

“You seem certain about this.” Hannibal smiled while looking over Will’s chest.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Will grabbed Hannibal by the tie and pulled him closer. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” Hannibal obliged and began removing his vest.

“Do you have any other requests?” Hannibal breathed. Will might have said something tantalizing at that moment, but they were interrupted by the tongue of dog.

“Yes, actually.” Will laughed. “Get Winston out of here.” Will began to get up to do it himself but Hannibal stopped him with a forceful hand.

“Your wish is my command.” Hannibal gave another of his chivalrous nods before leading the dog out the door. Will found something interesting about his phrasing though. The concept of him giving Hannibal a “command” seemed very foreign. In fact, Will doubted he could really ever convince Hannibal to concede on anything he wanted. On this day of seeming romance: Will had waited eagerly for Hannibal to maybe make an unannounced appearance, he’d initiated physicality only to have Hannibal say that he did not feel Will himself was ready, next they ate whatever it was that Hannibal wanted to prepare, and finally, after the most horrifying news Will had ever received in his career, Hannibal invited himself over to stay the night and then initiated another kiss despite the fact that Will could be the next target of a serial killer. It was almost as if the phrase “your wish is my command” was a joke if you actually looked at the power dynamic in their relationship. Will couldn’t help but think of their conversation on passion earlier. When the lust faded away, would the passion turn into any lasting feeling?

“Hannibal…” Will started, not really knowing what he was going to say.

“Yes?” Hannibal turned from closing the door behind him. When Will didn’t respond, Hannibal looked confused. “What is it, Will?”

“I’m not sure I’m thinking clearly.” Will sat up more straight and rubbed his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to cause problems.”

“Have I rushed you into anything?” There seemed to be a genuine sincerity to the question, which somehow made it seem insincere.

“No, no, no” Will sighed. “I think I rushed myself.” He rubbed his temples trying to figure everything out.

“And where are you rushing to?”

“A fork in the road.” Will began avoiding eye contact again and was suddenly seemed fascinated with his nightstand. “I should probably figure out where each path leads before I head down one.”

“Now who needs to stop thinking so much?” Hannibal sat down on the bed next to Will. This small joke was ever so slightly passive-aggressive and it actually comforted Will. It seemed like something a real person would say, even if they were essentially Will’s words from earlier being shot back at him.

“I can’t just have an affair with you.” Will had hardly ever heard himself say those words. He was not one for dating, it always seemed too complicated. “It would be… reckless.”

“Because of your career.” Hannibal nodded. Will shook his head and took Hannibal’s hand.

“Because I might be unstable and until that changes…” Will focused on Hannibal’s hand in his own. “I have to wait. Otherwise you might, we both might, get hurt.”

“Are you? Unstable?” Hannibal moved his hand from Will’s and used it to lift the actor’s chin, forcing eye contact.

“…yes.” Will felt so vulnerable. He’d been avoiding admitting his own instability, he was sitting there shirtless, and even though he knew he was making the right call, he felt that if Hannibal persisted he would concede. After answering, he did look directly into Hannibal’s eyes, trying to read what his reaction would be. Hannibal pulled him closer into a simple embrace, making Will feel safe for once.

“Your mind is like a window to the whole world.” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear. “Unfortunately, the world is not always kind.” Will felt like he could sob into the doctor’s shoulder, but he was almost too exhausted to produce tears. Hannibal pulled back, looking directly at Will again. “I will always endeavor to be kind to you, Will.” Will was so attracted to Hannibal in that moment, he wanted to kiss him again but he felt like that would be too many mixed signals.

“I don’t want to end… whatever this is.” Will added earnestly. “I just need to slow down.” He placed his hand on Hannibal’s thigh. “And believe me, I don’t want to.” Will couldn’t help himself, he gave the doctor another long, passionate kiss. He moved his hand higher during the kiss until Hannibal pulled away.

“Mm, I believe you.” Hannibal chuckled. “No need for further convincing.” Will laughed too, almost embarrassed at how indecisive he was being.

“Can you…” Will started, not knowing how to continue. “My couch might be a little short for you.” Will bit his lip, knowing that it was weak reasoning. “But I do want you to spend the night.”

“I think we can safely share the bed, if you’re amenable to that.” Hannibal smirked. “I promise to behave even if you don’t.”

The two lay down together, there were still kisses shared and embraces made, but they still did not consummate a relationship. Will felt both regret and relief at this. He felt as if his feet were firmly planted on either side of the line of regret and relief. He had to admit that this only wet his appetite for Hannibal, but he still couldn’t be sure that acting on that hunger would have been wise. Hannibal fell asleep first, leaving Will to watch him. Will struggled to keep his eyes open, out of joy for seeing the doctor’s resting face or out of fear of nightmares, it hardly mattered. Before he finally shut his eyes, the figure next to him was black with horns, a slumbering beast, as though the monsters in Will Graham’s head were somehow also in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I don't just plan to keep faking you guys out. They will actually consummate a relationship by the end of this fic, I just want to make sure it's not rushed for the sake of my own fanfic agenda. Chilton's attack is only the first of many more attacks, the Ripper is far from done!


	7. Kofta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two have breakfast and are interrupted but two individuals representing the FBI.

Frederick Chilton sat strapped to his director’s chair, each of his eyes covered by hands. The hands were not his, nor were they Will’s, but instead one was from Abigail and the other was from Freddie. Freddie stood there, flashing her usual overly white smile. Meanwhile, Abigail’s hand was just that, a hand. Will didn’t know how he knew it was Abigail’s hand, but it was there just not connected to Abigail. Chilton seemed as though he didn’t care about anything happening around him and simply pointed directly at Will and said, “Action.”

Will woke up sweaty, in Hannibal’s arms. The doctor was rubbing Will’s back calmly and almost absentmindedly, he seemed as though he was only half-awake. Will found himself clinging to Hannibal’s bare back in fear. He couldn’t understand his nightmare or why he was having so many lately but he did know that he felt protected by Hannibal. What disturbed Will the most about his nightmare was that when he did analyze it, he only resented Freddie. Whereas Abigail had been skewered in the dream before and then had her hand cut off in this one, Freddie was fine. Chilton’s eyes were covered, but Will felt that was an obvious reference to the fact that his eyes had just been cut out. The fake, white smile that Freddie flashed in Will’s dream somehow offended him greatly. It was true that Will tolerated Freddie most of the time, he’d even been using her image obsessed side to help his own interests, but he couldn’t help but distrust her. The attack on Chilton ultimately triggered these thoughts, Will simply couldn’t imagine Freddie having any actual empathy for other people’s suffering. The fakeness of her was somehow enraging Will, or maybe Will simply wanted to be mad instead of afraid.

“Hannibal?” Will gasped, still reeling, but the anger calmed him.

“You had a bad dream.” Hannibal seemed to be a little more awake now. He brushed Will’s wet hair back. “But you’re safe now.”

“I know.” Will exhaled and smiled at Hannibal. “Because you’re here.” He kissed the doctor passionately, feeling that this was the only place he belonged, in Hannibal’s arms. A kiss back from Hannibal Lecter in this moment was both rough and loving. There was a forcefulness, as if Hannibal was pushing back against Will’s own desires. The cold hand that had been stroking Will’s back began sliding downward and pushing the two of them closer together. Meanwhile, the doctor’s other surgical hand almost timidly traced shapes on Will’s chest. The juxtaposition of forcefulness mixed with softness perfectly encapsulated what Will liked about this man. He was an enigma, always perplexing, a mystery never to be solved. “Thank you.” Will breathed when ending the kiss.

“Anytime.” Hannibal smiled while stroking Will’s cheek. Will allowed himself to be entranced by Hannibal a while more before exhaustion took hold of him once again. This time, he didn’t dream.

The sound of dishware clinking ultimately was what woke Will up. The bed felt so empty without Hannibal there and for a quick moment, Will panicked. When he rubbed the sleep from his eyes he knew that Hannibal must simply be in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It was almost as though every moment without Hannibal was felt as just that, “without Hannibal.” It wasn’t “with Abigail” or “alone time” it was always just measured by Hannibal’s lack of involvement. Will felt he could be at a party, surrounded by people, but if Hannibal weren’t present he would feel utterly alone. He desired Hannibal, but not purely in a sexual manner. It was almost as thought Will wanted to become Hannibal in order to never be separate from him. These feelings frightened Will, but he couldn’t help but love the way he felt when embracing the desire.

“Good morning!” Hannibal smiled as he stood over a frying pan, preparing something that smelled delicious. “I brewed coffee if you would like to pour yourself a cup.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Will grinned while complying. “Do you always get up at 6 am?”

“It’s true that the early bird catches the proverbial worm, but it’s even truer that my shift schedule has me used to being up at the oddest hours.” There were no simple answers with Dr. Lecter. Everything had specific circumstance and each word seemed to have double meaning. Still, Will felt almost humbled by the seeming intellect of the other man, he couldn’t help but find it even more appealing.

“I’m surprised to see you fully dressed.” Will said, leaning on the table while sipping his coffee. “Not to mention a tad disappointed.” He gave a flirtatious grin as he thought about Hannibal’s appearance. The fact that he was back to wearing his three-piece suit, minus the jacket as he cooked, was baffling to Will.

“I assure you, ‘the soul of this man is in his clothes.’” Hannibal almost bowed slightly while still holding the pan over the stove.

“Ah well, in that case, _All’s Well that Ends Well._ ” Will responded. Will had done a lot of Shakespeare during his theater days and _All’s Well that Ends Well_ was both the best and worst play in Will’s opinion. While Will found the first act to be one of the most enticing and complex the stage had ever seen, he always felt the second half lacked a certain moral accountability and understanding of the audience. The show was an enigma, so Will found it incredibly fitting that Hannibal would quote that specific line of Shakespeare. “Should I dress up as well? Is this breakfast a black-tie event?” Will laughed as he stood there simply in his boxers.

“If that’s what you’d like it to be.” Hannibal gave a suggestive glance to Will that sent shivers down his spine.

“Give me a minute, then.” Will placed his coffee on the table and headed back to the bedroom to look at his outfit options. Ultimately he decided on jeans, a long sleeve cotton shirt, and a black vest. It was as formal as Will felt was appropriate, plus it was quick to gather, meaning he didn’t have to be away from Hannibal for long. “Better?”

“I’d say that you look good enough to eat.” Hannibal smiled. “But then all my work here in this kitchen would be wasted, so we’d best just stick to omelets this morning.” Will scoffed. It was odd to Will that he himself had used the term “you look good enough to eat” just before his first attack when he was playing the Chesapeake Ripper. Obviously it was a common phrase, but Will did note the recurrence. He took it as a sign that he and Hannibal shared a similar sense of humor, even if they had different mannerisms.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t want you to ignore your cravings.” Will said, moving next to Hannibal with a smirk. Hannibal simply paused in his cooking, and gave an almost warning side-eye to Will.

“You tempt me.” The corners of Hannibal’s mouth turned after a pause, signaling that it was a joke of sorts. Then again, Will did feel that maybe he should be a bit less flirtatious after he’d asked Hannibal to wait on sex. “That’s dangerous.”

“Sorry.” Will said almost instinctively, looking down uncomfortably. Hannibal seemed like he would say something but they were again interrupted by a knock at the door. “I should get that.”

The man standing in front of Will in the doorway was a widely built, black man. He wasn’t necessarily the most physically fit, but he was certainly intimidating. There was also a woman, white, dark hair, very lovely. She wore a patterned blue dress and clearly had a kinder demeanor than the man she was with. The man wore a basic suit and almost immediately revealed an FBI badge.

“Mr. Will Graham?” Will didn’t respond. The switching gears from flirting with Hannibal and suddenly having the government at his door had him reeling. “I am Special Agent Jack Crawford and this here is my associate Dr. Alana Bloom, may we come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” He motioned for the two to enter and ultimately thought about how grateful he was to have put on clothes. “Dr. Lecter, these two are from the FBI.”

“Doctor?” Agent Crawford said, looking Hannibal up and down. “What kind of doctor?”

“My expertise are focused as a neurosurgeon. Though I practice general medicine as well.” Hannibal was oddly calm despite this development, he ended his cooking and placed the omelets on two plates. “I’m sorry I only have breakfast for me and my patient.”

Will was relieved to be referred to as Hannibal’s patient. He hardly wanted the government to be the first to know about him questioning his sexuality. Hannibal calmly handed Will a plate, which Will simply held awkwardly, it hardly seemed appropriate to start scarfing down food now. He tried to understand why these people were suddenly in his apartment.

“Is this about Chilton?” Will said, regaining his footing. He placed the plate of food down on the table. “Has there been some development?”

“Mr. Graham, is there a place we can ask you a few questions?” Jack Crawford was examining the sparsely decorated apartment. It seemed as though he’d only just noticed the amount of dogs that were sitting patiently, hoping to get any food scraps that might fall.

“I can step out for a moment.” Hannibal volunteered. “Call me immediately if Will needs me though.” He quickly wrote his cell number on the back of his business card and handed it to Dr. Bloom. He put on his suit jacket and overcoat but stopped before opening the door. “Unless you find my presence necessary?”

“No, no, not at the moment.” Dr. Bloom said, though she glanced at Agent Crawford. It seemed she was looking for a validation from him.

“We’ll be in touch, doctor.” Jack Crawford nodded carefully. With that, Hannibal left and Will felt terrifyingly alone. “Are you in need of a neurosurgeon, Mr. Graham?”

“I have encephalitis.” Will said simply. “Dr. Lecter is monitoring my condition.” He crossed his arms, he had to guard himself again after having let himself be so vulnerable with Hannibal.

“Encephalitis?” Dr. Bloom sounded surprised. “That’s highly treatable.”

“Yes, but it would interfere with filming.” Will smiled slightly, trying to alleviate some tension. “I’m a workaholic.”

“This film is already dangerous enough.” Jack Crawford took a step around the room. “It seems reckless to go untreated.”

“Like I said, Dr. Lecter is monitoring my condition.” Will looked the agent up and down. “But you didn’t come here to talk about my health.”

“You’re not being investigated, Mr. Graham.” Dr. Bloom reassured Will.

“I didn’t think I was.” Will laughed slightly, though he couldn’t help but feel that he was being studied. “But I don’t really know how I can help you.”

“Director Frederick Chilton was working with us to try and catch the Chesapeake Ripper.” Jack Crawford put bluntly. “For obvious reasons, he has to take a step back. We are asking you to help us take another step forward.”

“I think this is hardly the time for my directorial debut.” The last thing Will needed was to add more work to his schedule. Also, he hardly wanted to fill the role that had just been targeted by a murderer.

“We’re not asking you to direct, Mr. Graham.” Dr. Bloom definitely seemed to be the “good cop” in this dynamic. However, it didn’t feel like an act to Will, it genuinely seemed like she paralleled Jack Crawford. “But after Chilton, you have been involved with this project the longest. We thought you might know who to recommend.”

“There’s one person who was involved before both Chilton and myself.” Will said casually.

“Abel Gideon?” Crawford said immediately. “The screenwriter?”

“Well, each film starts with a script, doesn’t it?” Will was actually surprised that they even knew the name of the screenwriter off-hand.

“For reasons we cannot disclose, Mr. Gideon is not an option.” Dr. Bloom said firmly. “We were hoping you could suggest someone who has been more present during filming.” There was more going on here than Will was being told, and he hardly liked that.

“What exactly was Chilton doing for you?” Will asked, somewhat horrified that whatever the FBI asked Chilton to do may have gotten him attacked. “I can’t suggest someone without knowing.”

“We really can’t say.” Coming from Dr. Bloom, it was clear that Will would not be getting a direct answer.

“Then the best I can offer is that you choose the AD, DP, or head editor.” Will moved toward the counter and leaned his back against it. He wanted to sit down, but he hardly wanted to be looking up at these agents as if he were a child. “They’ll know what Frederick wants.”

“Thank you for the information.” Dr. Bloom smiled, but this did seem superficial.

“What can you tell us about Dr. Lecter? How long have you known him?” Jack Crawford had wondered his way over to Winston and gave him a simple pat on the head.

“Almost a month now.” Will shrugged, he didn’t like this line of questioning. He wanted to say something positive about Hannibal without showing his hand. “He’s a very accomplished man and an excellent doctor.”

“Does Dr. Lecter often make house calls? Or are you just a special patient?” Jack was looking at Will again, there was a matter-of-fact manner to his voice but his body language made it clear how threatening he could be.

“It’s easier than having Paparazzi at the hospital.” Will shrugged. “He’s being paid well.” Will noticed Dr. Bloom glance at the omelets, it did seem odd that his doctor was preparing him food in his home. “He’s also a big fan, I guess.” A half-lie. Technically, Hannibal had said that he was Will’s newest fan, but it seemed to be due to the personal nature of their relationship more than the body of Will’s work.

“How big of a fan?” Dr. Bloom asked, wanting a quantifiable answer. Will almost didn’t think the question was serious but Agent Crawford raised his eyebrows, expecting a response.

“I’m not sure I understand the question?” Will slightly shook his head while keeping his eyes on the two strangers.

“Did he request you as a patient due to your fame or maybe is trying to pursue a more personal than professional relationship with you?” Dr. Bloom sounded almost like a medical survey in that moment. She clearly had a specific notion that she was driving at but it didn’t seem like she was pushing that agenda.

“As far as I know, he didn’t specifically ask to be my doctor.” Will tried his best to answer the second half without getting himself or Hannibal in trouble. “Dr. Lecter is responsible for my well-being and it’s a unique case, putting off treatment. Despite it being my wishes, if something were to happen to me, it wouldn’t look good for his career.”

“So you would define your relationship as…?” Agent Crawford clearly didn’t have any time for bullshit.

“We’ve become close.” Will tensed, he knew he had to be honest but there was only so much truth he was willing to give. “He’s protecting me and I trust him to do so.” He hoped that would end this line of questioning.

                Dr. Alana Bloom and Special Agent Jack Crawford exchanged knowing and worried glances with one another. Will was terrified that they’d maybe figured out the reality of his relationship with Hannibal. Will then had another thought: that was hardly the FBI’s motivation in this moment. A homoerotic relationship was not what they were focused on, they were focused on catching the Chesapeake Ripper.

“I’m sorry, what does this have to do with the case?” Will worried about what the answer could be.

“It could be nothing, we’re just trying to gather as much information as possible on the parties involved here.” If Dr. Bloom had said that, Will might have believed it, but coming from Jack Crawford it was clear that there was more than what was being said.

“Is Dr. Lecter a suspect?” Will felt he needed to defend his protector now. He was offended at the very concept of Hannibal being under investigation.

“We’re looking into anyone who fits the psychological profile, Mr. Graham.” Dr. Bloom said in a calming voice. “We’re not making any arrests yet.” That word “yet” made Will anxious. He crossed his arms.

“Are we done here?” Will said, signifying how much he wanted to end this conversation.

“We’ll be in touch.” Agent Crawford said, almost as a warning. “Do you need us to call anyone to take care of your health? Besides Dr. Lecter.”

“He’s my physician, why can’t I see him?”

“We’re going to be asking him a few questions once we leave you and we can’t have anyone else present during our interviews.” Agent Crawford made it clear in his manner that there would be no debating this.

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Will said back challengingly. The last thing he needed was to appear weak. “Just don’t keep him too long.” Will got no response to that and the two investigators left.

                Will collapsed onto the couch for a moment, his dogs happily licked his sweaty face now that it was within reach. His stomach made a noise of hunger so he decided to finally eat one of the omelets Hannibal had made. It was cold now, but still delicious. Will felt the meat was definitely the best part of the omelet. The _meat_. Will pushed the thought away, he knew what the FBI had been implying and he didn’t like it. Why should he trust the FBI in the first place? They got Chilton involved in something that got his eyes gouged out, so how effective can their work on the Chesapeake Ripper be? Will wished he knew what Chilton had done that made him a target. That was when Will decided to go to the one person who may tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire fic should be posted by the end of the night, I've just had to slow the release of things due to internet and various other things. I hope this isn't too aggravating! Please comment and give kudos if you enjoy, because validation is so nice.


	8. Skordalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes to Chilton in the hospital to probe his mind for any information on the Ripper. Ultimately, Will hopes that any doubt cast on Hannibal is unfounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content ho! If you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing, please note the two lines of dashes. If you skip everything that is within the dash lines, you should get the gist of things that are relevant to the plot but also avoid anything that is more erotic than anything in any previous scenes. I know that there is a warning applied that there will be explicit content in this fic, but I still want people to have the option to avoid it if they would prefer.
> 
> For the story, I advise that you do read the entire thing as I think the internal conflict Will has during the scene is important to his character, not to mention Hannibal's. But again, I don't want to force you to read anything you're not comfortable with just to find out what happens.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It was sad to see Chilton walking the hospital hallway, attempting to understand how to use the cane that he would be relying on as his eyes. No, not sad, pathetic. He swayed his cane back and forth, trying to anticipate anything in the way before he encountered it, but he still almost always banged into things.

  
“Maybe you should get a seeing eye dog?” Will suggested, supporting Chilton by one arm.

  
“I’ve only been blind for one day, Will. I don’t need to make a decision right now.” Chilton was clearly bitter about his predicament, not that Will could blame him. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up from this nightmare, but I suppose I have to get used to it.”

  
“Why did the Ripper attack you?” Will began his probing, with as seemingly innocent questions as he could muster. “And why did he leave you alive?”

  
“I doubt anyone knows why that man does anything, even himself.” Chilton scoffed. “The man is insane.”

  
“There can still be method to the madness.” Chilton’s head turned slightly, as if he hadn’t understood what Will meant. “Don’t you want to help the FBI catch him?” Will thought about how he could push Chilton further. “If the FBI had been involved earlier, I doubt they would have ever allowed for this to happen.”

  
“Ha!” One could hear the disdain in Chilton’s voice. “Do you really think they weren’t involved before?”

  
“Wait…” Will smiled, his plan was working. “What are you saying?”

  
“I’m saying that in all my years as a director, I have never had as many issues as this film has brought me.” They continued to walk slowly down the hallway, as Chilton had been desperate to get up and move around. “And I’m not just talking about the fact that I will never be able to see again.”

  
“What have you been keeping from me?” Will asked.

  
“You’ve seen the some of it peripherally.” Chilton sighed. “While it’s rather normal for directors to modify scripts without the writer’s consent, I’ve never done it before.”

  
“But Abel Gideon is suing you for arbitration as we speak?” Will didn’t understand the point of this. “You changed his script to make the Ripper more of a monster than what was based on the profile.”

  
“And who do you think thought a change would be good for the film?” Chilton led.

  
“…The FBI.” Will said, beginning to understand. “They needed the portrayal to be insulting to the Ripper, to be bait him out.”

  
“Abel Gideon adamantly refused to go along with the plan, but I felt it would be the right thing.” Chilton’s head was lifted up slightly higher, as if to give off an heir of nobility.

  
“And I’m sure you were compensated well for doing ‘the right thing’?” Will scoffed, knowing what Chilton was really interested in.

  
“Our publicity has been taken care of entirely and now we’re going from a risky picture to a blockbuster hit.” Chilton sighed again. “I should’ve known it was too good to be true.”

  
“So Gideon sues you for arbitration, you can’t back down due to the pressure from the FBI, and you also have to ensure that the Chesapeake Ripper comes across as superficially as possible.” All the changes that had seemed so unnecessary to the script, they finally made sense now. “Why wasn’t I told? I’m playing the character.”

  
“Will, you’re a good actor so you follow direction even if you disagree.” It was true that if under contract, Will would do whatever the director demanded even if he hated it. “The less people we told, the better. If the Ripper discovered what we were doing, the whole plan would be ruined.”

  
“So the Chesapeake Ripper punished you for your incorrect ‘vision’ of his character.” It was a good plan to catch the killer, but a reckless one.

  
“Yes.” Chilton paused in his steps. He attempted to turn his head toward Will, but his non-existent gaze was slightly off focus. “Though if we’re being honest, I would have thought he’d come after the actor portraying him.”

  
“Maybe he’s a fan.” Will darkly joked. It was meant to be a simple joke, but it shed light on the look Dr. Bloom and Agent Crawford had exchanged earlier. Why wouldn’t the Ripper attack Will? He’s the one most closely associated with the interpretation of the character. However, if the Ripper had spoken to Will about how he really wanted to play the part, he would know that Will was not a part of the film’s flaws. “Or he’s a producer so he just doesn’t like directors on principal.” Will added the last part to ignore what he was thinking.

  
“Producers don’t like anyone.” Chilton would have rolled his eyes if he’d had them. “Except Freddie Lounds, of course.” It was true, her online presence and willingness to play into any marketing scheme made Freddie a producer’s dream.

  
“What’s your plan now?” Will asked, suddenly feeling truly sorry for Chilton. He’d never really liked him, but now he saw how much he’d been used.

  
“I’ll write a book about my selfless effort to try and stop a ruthless killer.” Chilton stated matter-of-factly. “Everyone will weep at how much I’ve lost and I’ll be invited regularly on talk shows. Would you like to help me promote my book?” Will could roll his eyes, and did.

  
“Sure, why not?” Will couldn’t believe how many superficial people he’d been having to deal with lately. One of the only people he’d spent time with who seemed deep was Hannibal, a man who rejected any sort of simplicity, a man who was endlessly complex. Will couldn’t ignore that he felt that description fit the Chesapeake Ripper as much as it fit Hannibal. There were signs that Will had to consider, no matter how much he didn’t want to. He refused to believe that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper, but he didn’t know why he refused to believe it. “Frederick, do you think we’ve already met the Ripper?”

  
“I certainly have.” Chilton said bitterly. “Help me sit down, Will.” Will complied, finding a bench to let Chilton rest on.

  
“I know, but do you think he’s someone we know personally?” Will didn’t know what answer he wanted to hear, but he knew he was desperate for something to ease his fears.

  
“I didn’t recognize the voice.” Chilton sighed. “But I had been drugged prior to him speaking, so he didn’t sound normal.”

  
“Like an accent?” Will prayed that Chilton would say no.

  
“It’s possible.” Chilton Leaned his head back against the wall. “Not one I’d ever heard before though. Then again, I’d never had mushrooms slipped into my tea before.” It wasn’t a yes or a no. It was a maybe. Will was in the same spot he’d been in before asking the question.

  
Will’s phone buzzed with a text message, it was from Hannibal. It simply read: “Do you need me?” Despite the fear, Will smiled. He couldn’t help but have these feelings for Hannibal. He’d spent all of this time trying to pursue something with Hannibal without doubt, that now that he had real reason for hesitation, he couldn’t help but long for the other man.

 

“What was that?” Chilton asked, referring to the buzz of the phone.

  
“I have to go, Frederick.” Will said. Chilton nodded. “Do you need me to bring me back to your room?”

  
“No, no.” Chilton straightened up his posture. “I’ll just sit here for a while.” Will left without giving Chilton a second thought. The newly blind man tried to purge the last sight he ever had, the color red.

 

 

While Will had wanted to ask Hannibal to come meet him somewhere, he was rational enough to realize that he needed to think about things. Luckily the fenced in courtyard of Will’s apartment building was essentially deserted on this brisk afternoon. It wasn’t quite dusk yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the sun began to set. Will took the opportunity to give his pack some exercise and consider that which he wanted to ignore.

  
When their leashes were unhooked, the dogs ran around free ecstatically. While the others ran fast and far, Winston simply pranced happily at Will’s side, occasionally looking to his owner happily. Will wondered what kind of companion he would end up being to Hannibal. Would he be like Winston, sacrificing his chance to run free and wildly just to remain at his loved one’s side? Will’s other dogs cared deeply for him, but they didn’t have the blind devotion that Winston had. Did that make the other dogs wiser? Was being wise worth giving up something that felt right? Will rolled his eyes at himself, why did he always have to overanalyze everything?

  
When looking at the facts plainly: it was reasonable that Hannibal would be suspected as the Chesapeake Ripper. That didn’t mean he was the Chesapeake Ripper, in fact, Will continued to ignore that as a real possibility. What it did mean was that Hannibal and Will’s relationship would eventually come to light and Will needed to decide how he would respond to that. When the FBI began pursuing their questions more intensely, would Will say it was just some fooling around or something more? Will wondered if it was ethical for a doctor and a patient to have a sexual relationship. That’s when Will really became terrified.

  
Past the threat of a murderer, the FBI, the questioning of sexuality, and the lust, Will completely ignored his own mental state. He’d thought he was coming home and gutting a fish when he’d really been on set, mutilating a fake corpse. He’d imagined a stag in his apartment that morphed into a nightmarish creature. That same nightmarish creature continued to appear in Will’s sight from time to time. Encephalitis was essentially his brain being under attack, so how could Will possibly know what any of his feelings were? He’d never pursued a man before, but now that he was sick, he wanted Hannibal more than anyone he’d ever wanted in his life. Could it be that none of these feelings were genuine? That once he was medicated, it would all fade away?

  
Will felt sick to his stomach at the thought. He suddenly felt as though he couldn’t trust himself in any way. It didn’t matter if Hannibal was a suspect, he could be a victim of Will’s shortsightedness. At that moment, Hannibal called Will’s cell. Will couldn’t bring himself to answer, he let it go to voicemail. Will attempted to wipe the sweat off of his face, but it hardly helped him. Winston stood in front of Will, cocking his head slightly. Winston was the most recent stray in Will’s pack, so maybe he was just still recovering from his damage? Once Winston fully healed, would he run off with the others until given an incentive to come back to Will?

  
At some point during Will’s internal crisis, the sky had grown dark and the dogs had almost completely wiped themselves out. He called them back to him and they all happily ran back to Will. There was only one thing that Will found to be certain, in that moment, he wanted to believe that his feelings for Hannibal were real. He knew it could be temporary, he knew it could all be some twisted part of this disease, but he also knew he’d made up his mind. He was going to drive to Hannibal’s house, feel these feelings in their entirety, and then get the treatment. It scared him, that maybe once he was cured his empathy would seem dull, but not as terrifying as not being sure of Dr. Lecter.

 

 

“Will? This is unexpected.” Hannibal answered the door, his hair slightly disheveled, but he was still wearing his damned three piece suit. Will probably looked like a complete mess, the way he’d been worrying over everything, sweating like crazy, and how he was now standing here in a light drizzle of rain on the doctor’s doorstep.  
“Dr. Lecter…” Will said carefully. Hannibal raised a thin eyebrow questioningly before Will embraced him passionately and began kissing the doctor. He pulled away for a moment and hoped his eyes said everything he couldn’t bring himself to. Hannibal smiled and guided Will inside the foyer, closing the door behind them.  
“Do you feel stable?” Hannibal brushed some of Will’s wet hair back.

  
“No.” Will scoffed. “But I know I want this.” Will tilted his head down and began undoing the top button on Hannibal’s vest. He lifted his eyes to look at Hannibal again, moving his pelvis against Hannibal’s. “I know I want you.” In response, Hannibal did something that Will could never have predicted in a million years: Hannibal almost melted into a kiss with Will Graham.

  
Previously, their kisses had always been rough and powerful. Almost as though it was a fight for control, now Will was definitely the dominant one. It was as though Will was a knight who had just rescued Hannibal from some Medieval-like torture. Hannibal’s kiss was almost weak with gratitude. Will moved to Hannibal’s neck and the doctor gasped.  
“It’s like you can really see me.” Hannibal sighed with pleasure.

  
“I see you.” Will smirked while unbuckling Hannibal’s belt. “And I like what I see.” Will felt powerful despite having felt so powerless just moments before. He knew this could be a farewell to these feelings, a farewell to Hannibal, but he was going to make sure he had no doubts in the aftermath. In this moment, he wanted this more than he’d wanted anything.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------

“Should we move to the bedroom?” Hannibal almost laughed at his own suggestion, it sounded so quaint and awkward in that moment. Will genuinely thought about it for a moment but then he pushed Hannibal up against the wall.

  
“We’ll make it there eventually.” Will unzipped Hannibal’s pants. “But here’s fine for now.” Will stroked the doctor’s erection softly, almost teasing. Hannibal moaned and clutched to Will’s back for support. Will found it gratifying to have the man he viewed as his own protector, being so weak for him in that moment.

  
“Whatever you wish.” Hannibal said breathlessly. This time Will felt he really could ask Hannibal to do anything and it would be done. Hannibal grappled at Will’s vest, so Will took it off. The shirt came next, as did the doctor’s vest. Hannibal began turning slightly but Will stopped for a moment.

  
“The bed would be softer.” Will found himself blushing. While this was hot, he realized he needed to contain himself, this could be the only time he is with Hannibal. He wanted the night to not just be memorable, but for Hannibal just as much as it would be for him. “But I don’t know my way around your house.”

  
“I suppose a tour is in order then!” Hannibal laughed at the change of tone from Will. Hannibal had no intention of going over the whole floor plan though, he guided Will directly to the bedroom. Will still had his shirt and vest in hand, Hannibal took notice. “You didn’t leave those in the foyer?”

  
“I felt it would be…” Will tried to find the right word, “rude.”

  
“Yes, it would have.” Hannibal grinned. “I appreciate a man of manners.”

  
“How much do you appreciate him?” Will placed the clothing gently on a chair in the bedroom, his back turned to Hannibal, bending over more than was necessary for the action. Hannibal’s hands wrapped around Will from behind, tracing his muscles with his cold fingers. Will bent his head back and gasped.

  
“The sight of you could be my nourishment, and I would never hunger.” Hannibal’s mouth just slightly grazed Will’s ear as he whispered. Will turned to face Hannibal and gave a flirtatious smirk before moving to the bed. Hannibal moved to his nightstand, opened a drawer and almost timidly took out a bottle of lubricant. “Though I admit, I hope to do more than look tonight.” Hannibal gazed at Will and licked his lips slightly.

  
“I won’t let you go hungry.” Will said while removing his own pants. As if waiting for that invitation, Hannibal lunged onto the bed himself and began to ravish Will.  
Hannibal’s desire for Will was like that of a caged animal, finally being freed to hunt again. Will twisted himself to be on his knees, his hands leaning on the backboard for support. Hannibal gently massaged the lube onto Will’s ass. It felt cold, like Hannibal’s hands, but Will found it exhilarating. When Will felt Hannibal pierce into him, he groaned at the shock of it, but he didn’t want it to stop. With every push, Will banged against the wall with his right hand. He gasped, moaned and sighed with rough pleasure. When Hannibal finished, Will was panting and filled with ecstasy. He turned to look at Hannibal, who was also breathing heavy. Will looked at how Hannibal still had his shirt and tie on. Will grabbed the tie forcefully and pulled Hannibal into another kiss.

  
“Take your damn clothes off.” Will said this as a command, Hannibal took it as such and began frantically taking his shirt off and then the tie. Will couldn’t believe he still wasn’t satisfied and he honestly wondered if he ever could be. He just wanted more of Hannibal. “My turn.” Will exuded confidence and it was clear that Hannibal liked it. As Will caressed Hannibal’s backside with lube, he thought again about how sure he was of this. He didn’t think about how after treatment he could be horrified by these actions, instead he wondered how what they were doing could be viewed as anything other than beautiful. Not the simple act of sex, but the emotional connection he felt with this other man.

  
Will plunged into Hannibal and was rewarded by the moans of pleasure the doctor let out. Each thrust made Will feel more deeply for Hannibal. The passion and desire for Hannibal became so overwhelming that the fact that Will had been viewing this all as a goodbye before, pained him. He didn’t want to say goodbye to these feelings or this man. He didn’t want to lose who he was becoming when he was with Hannibal. Will liked the security, the confidence, the passion. When he finished, he couldn’t help but find it to be bittersweet.

  
\------------------------  
Will still couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was afraid to Hannibal just yet. However, he was ready to admit something else.

  
“Hannibal…” Will breathed as the two lay down against one another. “In this moment, know that I see you.” He put his hand on Hannibal’s cheek. “And, in this moment, I love you.” Will felt his heart beating rapidly as his eyes rapidly studied the other man’s expression. Desperately trying to predict how Hannibal would respond.

  
“If in this moment you feel that way…” Hannibal took Will’s hand off his cheek and held it in his hand. “Then I could see you every day, forever, Will, and I would remember this moment.” At that, Will smiled and kissed Hannibal again. The two continued showering each other in kisses until sleep came to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I have ever written a sex scene (I'm on the asexuality spectrum) but I am a writer by trade so I would appreciate ANY critiques or comments on what worked/what I should change. I hope you're all still enjoying the fic.


	9. Dolma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare wakes Will up in the middle of the night, which allows him to learn things he didn't want to. Hannibal and Will's relationship is truly tested when Will is confronted by Jack Crawford right after learning what he's learned.

Freddie Lounds stood in front of Will. He couldn’t see her face, but her hair was unmistakable. Will tapped her on the shoulder but she didn’t respond. He physically turned her around to discover that it was simply a Freddie mannequin with her iconic hair. He turned away from it, confused. Still, somehow he felt that behind him the mannequin was moving. When he looked at it again, its hands were now raised and it snapped its fingers twice. Suddenly, Will was surrounded by fake Freddies and they seemed to be haunting him. For a moment, one was the real Freddie, but then it switched back. The real Freddie seemed to appear and then return to being fake. Will became frantic, he couldn’t see which ones were fake and which was real, it was going so fast.

Will lunged in desperation at one of them, his hands tight around its neck. This turned out to be the real Freddie Lounds. Will couldn’t help but continue to choke the life out of her. He had flashes of himself being the one strangled, the black monster he’d seen before was the one strangling him though. Again, he was choking Freddie, but somehow she was still alive and her mannequins simply watched, haunting Will. Another set of hands, cold hands, went over Will’s to assist him. They were Hannibal’s.

                When Will woke up, he wasn’t particularly shaken by that dream, he just found it strange. He thought he might ask Hannibal if it meant anything. He then remembered he was in Hannibal’s home. In Hannibal’s bed. The whole past few hours came rushing back to Will and he couldn’t help but smile. However, the smile quickly faded when Will realized that Hannibal was not in bed beside him. This jolted him awake for a moment.

“Hannibal?” He said worried. Will shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes, Hannibal was probably just in the bathroom or something. Will sighed, his unnecessary shock had woken him up a little bit too much to just go back to sleep. He was parched so he decided he might as well get a glass of water. Will put his boxers on and wandered around to find the kitchen. He passed the bathroom, seeing that the door was wide open and the room was empty. He figured that Hannibal had also gone to the kitchen then, but that was empty as well.

                Will got his water from the sink and took a sip. The tap had a purifier on it and Will could taste the difference. He smiled to himself, of course Hannibal would have an unnecessary water purifier. This was the first moment that Will had to really look at the house of the doctor. It was not only spacious and well decorated, it was impeccably clean. It was certainly a change from the bachelor pads that Will usually occupied himself. Will’s current apartment was another temporary spot for him, he never got to stay in one place for too long, due to filming. Still, he thought about how nice it must be to live in this home, how elegant it was.

                Will decided to look around the house while he was up. He felt he could learn more about Hannibal by seeing more of where he lived, and he hoped to find the doctor himself. There was an exquisite dining room where herbs were being grown as a part of an artistic backdrop. There were glass doors that led to the outside. The hardwood floors were so smooth against Will’s feet, it was almost as though they were new. Will wondered if this house was new and maybe that was why it was still so clean. Then again, he could hardly imagine Hannibal as a slob so he couldn’t really know. The amount of rooms and their sizes were breathtaking. There was something that almost seemed like a ballroom, with a harpsichord placed in the corner. Will opened another door to find a study and another that led to a staircase for the basement. Will turned on the light to see that the basement seemed to just be storage and so he didn’t explore it any further.

                The thing missing in all of these incredible rooms was Hannibal. Not only was the man himself nowhere to be found, but there was a distinct lack of personal effects in the house. There were no family pictures, though there was plenty of art. There were multiple artist interpretations of scenes from Shakespeare’s _Titus Andronicus_ , as well as other works Will didn’t recognize, but all this told Will was that Hannibal was an “intellectual” or an “academic” which any person could deduce. Will longed to know something personal about this man. He felt a personal connection with Hannibal, but he wanted something tangible to solidify it. He then spied a stack of papers with drawings.

                They were simple paper sketches but they were incredibly well-done and detailed. An image of a building, the wound man, and then Will saw a sketch of himself. There Will stood, staring directly into the eyes of whoever looked at the image, holding a scalpel. Will assumed this was a reference to his role as the Chesapeake Ripper. He smiled at the image, seeing that Hannibal had truly been thinking about him even when they weren’t in the room together. The choice of scalpel meant a lot to Will. While it could simply be to represent the Ripper, it could also signify Hannibal, a surgeon. The thought that the Ripper and Hannibal could be the same person came into Will’s mind again, but he refused to focus on it. He would think about that after he’d had treatment, until then, Will would think of Hannibal fondly. He was tempted to take the picture, to keep it as a memory, but he felt it would be best to leave it where it was.

                Will found his eyelids growing heavy once again, and though he didn’t want to, he felt he should return to bed. He wanted to know where Hannibal had gone, but he didn’t know where else to look. It was possible that the other man had gone out for a walk, but the weather was chilly and it had only begun to rain harder since Will arrived. Will tried to think if there was a room he could have missed, but he’d looked through every door. He sighed as he moved back onto the bed, getting under the covers once again. The bed felt cold now, no Hannibal to share body heat with. Will had to trust that everything was fine, that Dr. Lecter would come back to him with a simple explanation for where he had gone. Will had to trust that as he went back to sleep.

                When Will awoke this time, Hannibal was there, sound asleep. Wil wondered for a moment if his wondering of the house alone had all been a dream, but he knew when he was awake. He smiled when Hannibal’s eyes opened.

“You’re awake.” Will stated with his full grin.

“So are you.” Hannibal replied with a smile as well. The doorbell rang and Hannibal sighed. “I’ll go see who that is, and see how quickly I can get them to go away.” Will gave a small laugh and kissed Hannibal before he got up to get to the door.

                Will still wondered where Hannibal had gone last night but he felt he would simply ask him. He stretched himself up and put his pants back on over his boxers. He yawned from the exhaustion but he was hardly fatigued. He knew he’d have to get back to his apartment soon enough, to make sure his dogs were taken care of, but he wondered if Hannibal would maybe go with him. He thought about how they could spend the day together for a bit until he recognized the voice Hannibal was speaking to in the other room. It was Agent Jack Crawford.

“Her dead body was found displayed on one of the film’s sets.” Crawford said. “Where were you last night?”

“I was here all evening.” Hannibal lied. Will was horrified. He didn’t know who was murdered, but he knew Hannibal was responsible. No matter how much he wanted to remove the thought from his mind, there were too many coincidences at this point. There was no real reason for Hannibal to have gone, and if there was, he wouldn’t have needed to lie about it to the FBI. Will was Hannibal’s alibi, and he had a choice to make here.

“Is there anyone who can verify your whereabouts?” Jack said dubiously.

“I can.” Will entered the room, shirtless and pants unbelted. It was clear what had happened between Will and Hannibal. “I was with Hannibal all night, Agent Crawford.” It was a lie. It was a lie that Will could feign ignorance on. If Hannibal’s true location became known, Will could simply say that he had not woken up in the middle of the night. He could seem to be an innocent victim in Hannibal’s game. Will knew he should have told the truth that Hannibal had been missing in the middle of the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He felt he owed Hannibal something somehow.

“…I see.” Jack Crawford was surprised though he masked it rather well.

“What exactly are you accusing him of?” Will became aggressive, he just wanted the agent to leave.

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything at this time.” Agent Crawford held up a defensive hand and spoke in a soothing voice.

“I believe you were.” Hannibal challenged, seeming almost offended to be considered a suspect. It was a case of dramatic irony, Will knew that Hannibal was the killer, but the rest of the world did not. It was almost like an inside joke, for Hannibal and Will. Will had to mask a smirk at what they were about to get away with. He simply felt so powerful with Hannibal, conscience be damned, Will couldn’t go back now.

“Beverly Katz has been killed, Mr. Graham.” That shocked Will out of his confidence. Putting a name and face to the act, made it real. Will gulped, terrified.

“The Ripper?” He asked fearfully. He couldn’t help but glance quickly at Hannibal, who was also staring at him.

“It is his style, yes.” Agent Crawford said in a grim tone.

“How was she…” Will tried to articulate it, “what did he do with her?”

“The murder almost perfectly mimics the killing of Cassie Boyle.” And somehow that put Will at ease.

“But then it can’t be the Chesapeake Ripper!” He almost seemed excited. “I’ve studied him, he never kills the same way twice. He almost tailors the deaths to the victims or the circumstances. He can’t have been the one to have killed Beverly.”

“Usually, yes.” Jack Crawford shook his head. “But the Ripper played a sick joke with this one.”

“What do you mean?” Hannibal chimed in.

“Ms. Katz was found in almost the exact way as Cassie Boyle, however, there was a strip of traditional film across her eyes.” Jack explained. “It was a film of Beverly being killed, but each shot in this sick movie is inspired by Ms. Katz’s original storyboards for the scene.”

“He respected her vision.” Will breathed.

“Come again?” Crawford said.

“Beverly said her original storyboards were to give Cassie Boyle some last shred of dignity, the shots all focus on Cassie’s face instead of the Ripper’s.” Will tried to piece the methodology together. “So the Ripper took what Beverly viewed as being respectful and transferred that to the film of her death.” Will pushed the reality of Beverly being dead out of his mind as he continued to think about the killer’s— _Hannibal’s_ , mindset. “She didn’t want to do the changes that you instructed Chilton to make but she ultimately complied.” Crawford raised his eyebrows at Will’s knowledge of the FBI’s involvement, but said nothing. “By covering her eyes in a film based on her original storyboards, the Ripper is allowing her to see her true art for all eternity.”

“You think he had some connection to Beverly Katz?” Jack moved a step closer, trying to get more information.

“I don’t know!” Will said frantically. “All I know is that that would be my design if I were him. And, in all truth, I have been trying to become him for this film for months.” Will shook his head and brushed his hair back. “I’m sorry, do you need anything else, or can we be left alone with this news, please?” He feared that Jack Crawford would be able to smell Will’s knowledge about Hannibal in the air. Jack nodded, seeming unsatisfied with Hannibal’s alibi but intrigued by Will’s analysis of the situation.

“I’ll be in touch.” Agent Crawford said while exiting the house.

“I’m sorry about your colleague, Will.” Hannibal said, almost actually sounding sorry. Will didn’t know what he was feeling but he simply ran up to Hannibal and grabbed his face, forcing the man to look directly into his eyes.

“I see you.” It wasn’t clear if this was a promise or a warning.

“See?” Hannibal asked.

“See.” Will said directly. “I see the real you and all of its parts.” There was a flash of understanding in Hannibal’s eyes.

“Ah.” It was almost an awkward response. Hannibal moved Will’s hands from his face and held them in his own. “Forgive me, but I’m not sure I see you at this moment. What sort of man is Will Graham going to choose to be?” This also could be a threat, join me or die. But again, it was unclear.

“I can’t see myself.” Will looked down. “And that’s why I’m going to get treatment.” Hannibal was silent at this. “I won’t change any testimony I’ve given, but I can’t proceed without trusting my own mind.”

“Well, then by all means.” Hannibal smiled. “What’s a relationship without trust?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter is next! I hope I have entertained you all at least a little bit.


	10. Souvlaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Will is fully cured of his encephalitis, he has to face the difficult decision about whether or not to continue his relationship with Hannibal. And, what to tell the FBI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely the longest as I really combined two chapters into one. I really feel it flows better this way. Anyway, on to the conclusion!

 

                Almost a month of taking anti-viral and anti-inflammatory drugs had gone by. After all this, Will was at last given a clean bill of health. Freddie Lounds disapproved but she could hardly interfere. His mind was free of encephalitis, but few things seemed clear to him still. Hannibal had kept his distance as Will figured himself out, though the Chesapeake Ripper hadn’t stopped killing. No one who Will had any real attachment to was killed since Beverly though. And despite how fond Will was of Beverly, they weren’t close. The producer Mason Verger had been killed, which certainly made headlines. His arms and legs had been completely removed, but he was still alive. His death was caused by drowning, what remained of him was weighed down with his own gold in his own swimming pool. Will wanted to say he was disgusted by this, but he was almost amused. He’d met Verger once and he came across as a spoiled and arrogant asshole. Will liked the idea of him being helpless in his final moments and it was poetic that Verger was literally brought down by his own wealth.

                Will needed to make a decision on what he was going to do about his relationship with Hannibal. He wasn’t going to tell the police anything, but that didn’t mean Will was about to continue being intimate with Hannibal. Will had been mentally listing pros and cons of the relationship, which was beyond twisted, but Will didn’t care. One pro was that Hannibal was an excellent chef and Will had already begun to miss having his meals regularly. Though it didn’t take long for Will to realize that those meals almost certainly contained human meat, so it was definitely a con as well. Will pet his dogs and shook his head at himself, he’d almost hoped that his infatuation with Hannibal was momentary insanity, instead he could be certifiably insane constantly. A knock at his apartment door derailed Will’s train of thought.

“Hell, Mr. Graham, may we come in?” Will sighed at the sight of Jack Crawford and Dr. Alana Bloom in his doorway.

“Of course” he motioned for them to enter. “I really don’t know what more information I can give you.”

“Actually, we’re here to give you information.” Dr. Bloom said. “The film is officially being canceled.” It wasn’t surprising, though it was disappointing.

“Took you long enough to see the danger.” Will said this almost jokingly. Almost.

“Mr. Verger was the last element forcing production to continue. While his removal from the equation is tragic, we are now able to end filming.” Agent Crawford explained.

“No, I understand.” Will said grudgingly. “I’ll live.” He then thought about that statement, “Unless the Ripper has anything to say about it.”

“Our offer of security still stands, Mr. Graham.” Agent Crawford had been pushing personal security for some time now. Will shook his head and the matter was dropped.

“Mr. Graham, we were wondering if you can think of any common factors between the victims? Possibly something we’ve missed?” Dr. Bloom said, genuinely interested.

“No one was sleeping with one another as far as I know, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Will rolled his eyes. “I don’t know of any secrets that anyone has.”

“In all due respect, Mr. Graham…” Agent Crawford began, “Your relationship with Dr. Lecter is a secret. It was a secret that you specifically kept from us in our initial inquiries.” Will laughed a little.

“You’ve got me there.” He didn’t hate Agent Crawford and Dr. Bloom, he just feared what they could learn. Now that he knew they were pursuing the right leads and he was healthy again, he could appreciate their perspectives. “But I’ve been too busy keeping my own secret to learn anyone else’s.”

“Is there anything you still haven’t told us about that secret?” Jack Crawford said with intensity. Dr. Bloom looked equally invested in the answer. Will laughed again. He was trying to seem as casual as possible.

“Okay, if we’re going to talk about my love life, you might as well sit down.” Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom each took a seat on the couch while Will got a glass of water. He sat down at a chair across the coffee table from the couch. “What do you want to know?”

“How long have you been seeing Dr. Lecter?” Dr. Bloom said immediately.

“I mean, I’ve been ‘seeing’ him since he started treating me. But we only started a relationship…” Will thought about when it actually started. “The day before you two first came to question me, actually.” Will knew that he could tell the complete truth of events, minus his waking up that one night. He could feign ignorance to Hannibal’s other activities.

“How serious would you say this is?” Dr. Bloom was clearly in charge of this line of questioning. It made sense that a psychiatrist would take the reins on this one.

“That’s hard to say.” Will sighed. “Each of our dates have been interrupted by the FBI, so we haven’t had a chance to talk about that yet.”

“So you haven’t been together since I arrived at Dr. Lecter’s house?” Agent Crawford sounded surprised.

“A weekend dalliance.” Will laughed. “We’re going to see each other again, but I didn’t want to continue anything until I received treatment. Murders _and_ exploring my sexuality are already overwhelming, might as well take encephalitis out of the equation.”

“Yes, we heard you had just finished treatment.” Agent Crawford glanced at Dr. Bloom. “What made you decide to get help after all?”

“The sudden homosexuality, honestly.” Will shrugged. He was enjoying giving these responses, he felt like he was in control of the situation instead of being questioned. “It didn’t seem smart to try to figure out my feelings when my brain was essentially attacking itself.” He paused, remembering what excuse he had given previously to the FBI for not wanting treatment. “Also with Chilton and Beverly… filming was halted long enough for me to get well.”

“You seem much more relaxed with us than you have been before.” Dr. Bloom smiled.

“That’s because I am.” Will leaned back. “You know about the one thing I was trying to hide, so I don’t have to keep that secret.” It wasn’t not the only thing, but Will could play it off like it was. “And I’m not feeling like I’m going to collapse or have a seizure at any moment. I don’t even have filming to prepare for! This is the most relaxed I’ve been in some time.”

“Even with the Chesapeake Ripper still being on the loose?” Jack Crawford challenged.

“I never said I was completely relaxed.” Will shot back. “But you have to admit that eliminating certain factors is a huge relief for me.”

“Has Dr. Lecter ever done or said anything suspicious?” Dr. Bloom essentially jumped on Will’s last words.

“No.” Will said almost too quickly.

“Nothing at all? Even something slightly unusual?” Alana Bloom tilted her head to the side and raised her brows. Will paused. He could admit to Hannibal’s subtle cannibal jokes, his confession that he felt Will was the only person who could see him, or even his description of the film as being kitschy but admiring Will’s desire to portray the Ripper honestly. He could say any of these things and still remain blameless in the whole thing. Again, Will was faced with a choice.

“Really, there’s nothing I can think of.” Will shook his head. “I’m obviously biased, but he’s an incredible man.” Will made his decision. He was going to protect Hannibal because, for some reason, Will couldn’t imagine life without him. It was a terrifying and exhilarating change for Will. He’d gone from a passive observer to an accomplice in just a few moments. Or maybe he’d always been an accomplice to Hannibal’s activities, he’d just been lying to himself. Jack Crawford looked to Alana Bloom and the two got up to leave.

“I don’t think we have any further questions at this time.” Dr. Bloom said.

“I won’t see any of this in tabloids, I assume?” Will said, trying to keep a casual air. The response was for Will not to worry about anything being leaked on his personal life by the FBI. “And…” Will paused and ruffled his hair. “I am sorry for how I’ve been to you two previously. I obviously had, and have, things to work out.” Will tried to think about how to continue. “I hope you make an arrest soon.” Will was surprised by how true that last part was. He wanted them to arrest someone, to satisfy the FBI, but he wanted Hannibal for himself.

“Let us know if you remember anything.” Agent Crawford said, heading for the door. Will thought of something.

“Have you heard anything from Abel Gideon lately?” Dr. Bloom and Agent Crawford turned in surprise at Will’s words. “I know he’s still suing Chilton for arbitration, which seems a bit cold to me.” Will thought about how to proceed. “And all the victims he had issues with.”

“Issues?” Dr. Bloom said surprised. “Besides Chilton, we were unaware that he had objections with anyone else involved in the film.”

“He respected Beverly’s original plans, but I know he was mad at anyone who went along with Chilton’s changes.” Will didn’t actually know that, but it sounded probable. “And Mason Verger didn’t start backing the project until after Chilton completely changed the script. I think Gideon saw that as an insult.”

“Did he have any issues with the cast?” Agent Crawford pressed, clearly feeling as though they were gaining valuable information.

“I don’t think so?” Will remembered how Abel Gideon had been rather excited to have Will Graham starring in the film. There was one cast member that he objected to though. “He didn’t like Freddie Lounds. She lives for exploitation of the media, I think he saw her as inorganic to the narrative.” Will found it surprisingly easy to shift focus on Abel Gideon as a possible suspect. He hardly knew the man, and he needed a scapegoat anyway, Gideon seemed a viable option. “I feel like if you want dirt on any of the victims, he’d be the one to ask. I don’t think he’d mind speaking ill of those particular dead.” He added the last part to make it seem a little less direct. Dr. Bloom and Agent Crawford exchanged glances.

“Thank you for the information, Mr. Graham.” Agent Crawford said and with that, the two from the FBI were gone. Will was left with the reality of the decision he had just made. Somehow, a calm rushed over him and he dialed Hannibal.

“Hello?” The doctor responded.

“They know.” Will said before continuing. “But they can be persuaded.” There was silence on the other end. “I’m coming over, we’ll talk then.” Will hung up and headed to Hannibal’s.

                Will smiled when Hannibal opened the door. Before entering, he noticed that there was a scalpel resting on an end table in the hallway. It had definitely not been there the last time Will had been at Hannibal’s home. Furthermore, there was no good reason for a scalpel to be placed in such an arbitrary place. Will laughed a little nervously as he walked inside and shut the door.

“Are we expecting other company, or is this for me?” He motioned at the sharp object. Hannibal smirked slightly.

“You still haven’t given me a clear answer on what you plan to do.” Hannibal picked up the scalpel delicately. “I have to be prepared.” It was threatening and playful all at once. It was terrifying and seductive to Will.

“Well…” Will said as he cautiously moved to stroke Hannibal’s cheek. “Here’s your answer.” He kissed Hannibal softly and the doctor put his scalpel back down. “But we’ve got work to do.”

“You were speaking to the FBI?” Hannibal smiled and placed his own hand over Will’s. “What happened?”

“I told them the truth about how long we’d been together and how you’re an incredible man.” Will looked to the side. “I think Agent Crawford was a little uncomfortable, to tell the truth.”

“And?” Hannibal moved Will’s hand to kiss each of his knuckles lightly.

“And I told them to look into Abel Gideon.” Will smiled. “He had enough motive for each of your victims, plus no one knows where he is right now.”

“I do.” Hannibal grinned. “But the less you know, the safer you’ll be.” Will was visibly surprised. “I’ve been planning to frame him since I met you.”

“Since you met me?”

“Previously, I could have carried out my affairs and stayed away from the FBI’s detection, or flee the country and go by a different name. But now…” Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will’s back. “I had to make sure I could stay with you.”

“Maybe I’d want to run away with you.” Will felt a chill down his spine as he was pulled closer to Hannibal.

“I doubt you could travel anywhere unnoticed.” Hannibal pressed his forehead against Will’s. “But that’s the price I pay for falling in love with a star.” Hannibal’s words hung in the silence for a moment as Will processed it. Will suddenly embraced Hannibal tightly and forced a strong kiss upon the other man’s lips. When their lips separated, Will smiled.

“I love you too.” Will wasn’t acting in this moment. He felt warm, protected, and strong. He never wanted this feeling to end. His passion for acting, his empathy, had guided his interest toward Hannibal. The film, Will playing the part of The Chesapeake Ripper well had been the most important thing to him. Now, he was setting his passion for acting aside for the passion he felt for Hannibal, the man whose murders caused the film to be canceled. And wasn’t that what love was? Valuing another person over your passion.

“Will…” Hannibal pulled away, contemplating. “I think I will kill tonight and you will vouch for me again, to keep the FBI believing I am innocent.”

“No, we can’t do that again.” Will said, missing Hannibal’s touch. “They hardly trust me, if I serve as your alibi a second time, they’ll assume I’m lying for you each time.”

“You sound as though you already have something in mind.” Hannibal was clearly elated to hear this plan that Will was concocting.

“I think…” Will smiled. “You and I should go out on a date.” Will entwined his fingers with Hannibal’s.

“Are you comfortable letting the world know about us?” It was a sincere concern, Hannibal wanted to ensure that Will knew what he was doing. “The paparazzi may see us.”

“I’m only truly comfortable when I’m with you.” Will smiled. “If it means keeping you with me, I’d do almost anything.” Will knew that was true, he felt like a slave to Hannibal, yet he didn’t care.

“What are you planning?” Hannibal said, knowing there was more going on than Will was saying. He ran his hand down Will’s clothed chest. Will put a finger to his lips.

“That’s a secret.” He mirrored Hannibal’s previous words. “The less you know, the safer you’ll be. You protect me, and I’ll protect you.” With that, the two kissed.

                This kiss was not like their previous ones. Before, everything had been rough and rushed. Now, this was soft, slow, and sensual. There was no haste in this kiss, it was as though time melted away for them in this moment. The entire world seemed to have melted away. Will knew in that moment that the two of them could be content if all others were gone, so that only they would be left to conquer. Will felt that nothing could truly stop them if they were together. Only divine intervention could take them down.

                The trick to the date was that they had to be publicly affectionate, but not seem like they were trying to attract media attention. It would have been simple to just stroll down the street, hand in hand. However, it would be too obvious and inorganic for what Will had in mind. Will told Hannibal it would be best to arrive at a public park separately, intending to meet there. The greeting of each other had to be carefully rehearsed. They embraced for longer than two men would normally do and when they pulled away, they allowed their fingers to lock into each other’s. They stood there, smiling at each other, holding hands, acting as though they’d forgotten where they were. Then, Will darted his eyes around as if paranoid, and pulled his hands away. He then motioned for Hannibal to walk alongside him. Cell phones were already attempting to take stealthy photos of the two.

                Will guided Hannibal to a small gazebo in the park that had vines hanging all around it. It created an illusion of privacy, but the two were still very much exposed to prying eyes. It would be believable that the couple wouldn’t think anyone was watching them while they stood in there. Hannibal delicately adjusted Will’s coat collar, Will responded by putting his hand on Hannibal’s cheek. They kissed without breaking for at least two minutes. It had to be long and stationary, to make sure any photos taken were clear and couldn’t be interpreted any other way. While their kisses previously had always been rife with powerful emotions, this was meant to be calculated and cold. Still, Will couldn’t believe how much he still melted into Hannibal during this performance. Again, Will finally felt whole with Hannibal.

                They spent the rest of their “date” in the gazebo, sitting together, making unimportant small talk and laughing at each other’s jokes. It was almost sugary sweet, the way they were behaving with one another. They essentially fell into all of the early dating clichés in their looks and conversations. At one point, Hannibal simply asked Will what his favorite color was and Will couldn’t stop laughing. Hannibal didn’t know what the plan was, but he knew how to play along. While this was a nice way to spend the day, it was certainly not typical of their relationship. They had always talked about deep topics, dealt heavily in metaphor, or euphemism. This was surface and superficial, but with Hannibal it was fun to pretend to be simple.

                It didn’t take long for photos to be all over the internet, Will began receiving calls from reporters the moment they left the park. He told them all the same thing, “I don’t want to drag Hannibal into this world unless he wants to do it himself. Call him for interviews if you have to pry.” The right level of sounding annoyed while still dropping the name of the mystery man. Then Hannibal’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Dr. Lecter looked at Will as the vibrating cell never seemed to stop demanding his attention.

“What do you want me to do?” Hannibal asked Will, intrigued. They sat back in Will’s apartment, making sure the dogs were well taken care of.

“Be your usual, charming self.” Will grinned as he knelt down to pet Buster. “But do it in front of a live studio audience on some celebrity obsessed talk show.”

“Can you only date someone who has a Hollywood profile?” Hannibal joked.

“I can only date you.” Will turned to face Hannibal, still kneeling. “So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get arrested.”

“And being famous guarantees that one gets away with murder, correct?” Hannibal put his head on the top of Will’s head, petting him slightly.

“Let me handle all the details of this scheme.” Will Leaned closer to Hannibal’s crotch. “You’ve been on your own for so long, it’s time for you to relax.” Hannibal bit his lip at Will’s advance. Will’s hand moved up Hannibal’s leg and rested on his zipper. Hannibal leaned his head back in anticipation, but Will stood up and stretched. “So are you going to take those calls or not?”

“You are cruel.” Hannibal shook his head as he adjusted himself to be sitting upright. “Should I include that in my interview?”

“Only if you want me to tell them where I got it from.” Will bent over and kissed Hannibal on the cheek before returning his attention to his dogs. Hannibal scoffed as he answered the phone.

                Phase two of the plan was in progress when Hannibal walked onto the stage of the late night talk show. There was applause to welcome him, but it was clear that people were simply excited to be getting an exclusive interview with the Mystery Man in Will Graham’s life.

“So, I should be calling you Dr. Lecter, is that right?” Jimmy Price, a popular and fun host, began.

“You can call me Hannibal, Jimmy.” He replied with a smile.

“Right, so where does that name come from? Let alone, where on Earth have you come from?” The audience laughed and Hannibal gave a chuckle.

“The name is very old, it means ‘Grace of Ba’al’, who was an ancient God. So it essentially means ‘grace of God.’” Hannibal nodded, almost validating the information he had just given. “And I come from Lithuania.” The interview continued with simple questions and jokes that pleased the audience. Eventually the questions turned to Will.

“How did you and Will Graham get together?” Price asked.

“I was his doctor.” There was a response of “oohs” from the audience. “I’m as surprised as you about this development.”

“So who initiated the relationship?” The questions were easy to answer honestly, and they were hardly deep or meaningful. Still, Hannibal knew how to be charismatic and work a crowd, as he had done so many times at his famous dinner parties. “Alright, now I have to ask what we’ve all been wondering.” Jimmy Price paused. “How long has Will Graham been into men?” There was laughter from the audience at the awkwardness of the question.

“This is as new for him as it is for all of you.” There was a mixed response from the audience, nothing outwardly negative, just confused. “He says I’m his first boyfriend.” Hannibal felt oddly out of place on this set. He was used to faking enjoyment or portraying a fictional persona, but this was almost too fake. It seemed as though every answer he gave was so incredibly predictable, but Hannibal couldn’t think of a way around that.

“Immigrants!” Price joked. “First they take our jobs, now they turn our celebrities gay!” The audience erupted into laughter. There was nothing Earth shattering revealed during this interview, it was hardly an example of journalism. Still, eyes were fixated on Hannibal and viewers hung off every word said. No one in the audience saw Freddie Lounds’ Instagram feed. They didn’t see a photo of her actual heart on a platter. Those who did see, didn’t understand what the caption free photo could mean. That was, until the others were uploaded.

                Hannibal didn’t hear about it while being interviewed, but once he was back in the green room, it was all anyone was talking about. Freddie Lounds’ Instagram was filled with images of her mutilated corpse. Her eyelids had been cut off so her blue eyes were forced to witness what had been done to her. Freddie’s lips were carefully stitched back, one half to mimic her trademark smile and the other side stitched to create a heavily defined frown. It would later be revealed that the “thread” used to stitch her lips, was Freddie’s own hair. Freddie’s own blood painted her fingernails and toenails but what was most striking was the use of her blood as lipstick.

It was a horrific sight, and it was all left in one of film’s studios. Beautiful three-point lighting illuminated the corpse as it was displayed in between two mannequins in the same pose as the body. The police would find the supports used to force Freddie into that position had been attached to her while she was still alive. She was frozen as the monster who did this to her continued his work. It didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel pain, it just meant she couldn’t do anything about it. These final moments must have been truly horrifying for Freddie Lounds.

Hannibal was seeing this for the first time along with everyone else backstage of the talk show. Some official looking people with headsets felt that Jimmy Price should inform the audience, others felt that it wasn’t their place to break the news. Hannibal felt Will’s hand on his shoulder, as the actor appeared seemingly out of nowhere, looking frantic.

“Will?” Hannibal said, surprised.

“Hannibal…” He breathed, still looking shaken. “It’s Freddie… she’s…” Will fell into Hannibal’s arms and broke down into tears. Those that were backstage to see the famous actor in this state, averted their eyes.

“I saw…” Hannibal said, comforting him. “Let’s get you home.” Will nodded at this, looking incredibly vulnerable.

                The car ride home was void of conversation, but the two did exchange glances with one another and laugh. Once they arrived at Will’s apartment and calmed the dogs after their arrival, Hannibal felt it was time to open up the big Amarone bottle he’d seen in Will’s cabinet previously. The two sat on the couch together talking as they drank their wine.

“Do you think they’ll ever know who killed Ms. Lounds?” Hannibal mused.

“They already know.” Will smirked. “It was the Chesapeake Ripper. His style is unmistakable so it can’t have been anyone else.”

“Oh?” Hannibal grinned before taking another sip of his wine. “Not a copycat?”

“Only someone with _intimate_ knowledge of the Ripper could have done that.” Will shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “Do you think there’s anyone who would care for a serial killer that much?” Will placed his hand on Hannibal’s knee and placed his glass down on the coffee table.

“If there were.” Hannibal also placed his glass down. “I’d call it love.” Will initiated a passionate a fiery kiss with Hannibal.

“So would I.” Will grinned as he embraced a new chapter of his life as well as monster whom he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed my first ever fanfic! HUGE thank you to NoOneKnowsIWriteThis for being the absolute BEST beta reader and having been the best friend for as long as I've lived. Go check out her great fics!  
> Please leave kudos and comments if you liked this story!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed! Please leave comments to let me know what you think and feel free to ask me questions too. I'm happy to say that most of the decisions I made in this fic (changes and whatnot) were thought about obsessively so I probably have an answer for you as far as content goes and I will endeavor to help you as best I can in anything else that you want to know.


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